Origins: Mattlock Houston
by Duffy1972
Summary: MH FanFic #2: In the same vein of "Origins: C.J. Parsons," this is a short story and period piece on the circumstances of Mattlock Houston's birth. It is also told in a compressed time format in a series of vignettes. This will probably be the last story I will write in this way as far as I know at this point. Some of the characters are mine but most are borrowed for fun.
1. Chapter 1

The Texas Oil Boom was in its early and most prosperous stage when Wade Matlock was born in 1916, but the benefits of the boom were lost on the Matlock family as they were 3rd generation tenant farmers working land owned by German immigrants near Round Top, Texas. Wade's family of six lived in a three-room house with dirt floors. He was eventually the eldest of four siblings and bore the brunt of the responsibility on the farm with his parents.

During the early years of the Great Depression, the Matlock family took part in a New Deal program to increase the number of farmers who were owners rather than tenants by paying tenants to restrict the acreage they farmed. This caused many previous owners to sell the tenants' parts of the land due to the loss of their personal revenue, and drove many sharecroppers out because of the decreased need for overall labor. The Matlock family acquired their own farmland in 1931 from the immigrants they previously rented from, but drought conditions and poor business acumen made it a largely unsuccessful venture. The family drifted into subsistence farming and could barely support their large family on that and government relief.

Wade was a rough-and-tumble boy who grew into a hard-working, brusque teenager who started smoking cigars at the age of 13. By 17, he was 6'2" tall and had light brown hair that was slightly bleached by the sun. He wore his wavy hair longer and loose, unlike most boys his age who were beginning to use pomade in their hair or getting crew cuts. He was highly competitive and participated in a variety of gambling activities from cards to arm-wrestling, when he wasn't helping on the family farm. He had gotten the attention of the police a time or two due to petty thefts and for brawling with other boys.

In 1934, Wade joined up with the Civilian Conservation Corps and began sending $22 of his $30 a month salary back home to help support his parents and siblings. He first worked with the CCC at Palmetto State Park constructing the various buildings in the park, basically learning carpentry and masonry on the job. After getting re-enrolled for a second year in 1935, he moved on to Lockhart State Park and helped build the dam there as well as Park Road 10. He had also been promoted to Senior Leader of his camp and earned $45 a month, but continued to send $35 of that pay home to his family.

"So, Matlock, what are your plans after we're done here? Ain't you done with the CCC after this job?" Leroy Pounder, the Company Clerk asked him while he and Wade sat in the mess hall after lunch.

"I don't have any plans. Figure I'd go and see if there are still jobs to be had in Huntsville working for an oil company," Wade replied.

"Oil, huh?" Leroy said.

"Yeah. There's a lot of growth, and I've heard, a lot of jobs, in East Texas," Wade said.

"Why oil?" Leroy asked.

"I don't know. Seems like it would be good to get on the ground floor of that and see where it leads," Wade said.

"Do you know anything about the oil industry?" Leroy asked.

"Not really, but I have worked on a farm, worked construction and masonry, built roads and dams in the CCC. That has to count for something," Wade said.

"I don't know. I think they'll want someone with experience or an education. Didn't you drop out in the 7th grade?" Leroy asked.

"Not finishing school doesn't mean I don't have brains, Leroy," he said in an annoyed tone. "If they at least hear me out, I know they'll give me a chance. I'm a hard worker and have a lot of experience."

"I know you're a hard worker. You're also bound to have some good references from the CCC."

"Now see, that's what I'm talking about," Wade replied.

"I hope you're right. It's hard times these days finding work for even the most qualified," Leroy said.

"You have to have a little more optimism and drive, Leroy."

"Uh-huh," Leroy replied as he took his food tray back to the rack. Wade pulled out a cigar, lit it and puffed it a few times before snuffing it out and putting it back in his shirt pocket.

In 1936, Wade began working as a welder at a Hays oil field operation east of Huntsville. He quickly advanced to roustabout, putting all of his previously learned skills to work. He also learned to be a machinist on the job. In a short amount of time, he had earned enough money to buy a used 1933 Chevrolet pickup truck.

About a year into the job, on March 18, 1937, Wade was working near Henderson, Texas as a roustabout when there was a massive explosion at the London School of New London, Texas. The explosion was so massive that Wade could hear it in Henderson. He and a bunch of other men were released from their work on the oil fields and went to go help out in the explosion's aftermath. Wade took as many tools and as many men as could fit in his truck to the London School.

When they arrived, Wade and the other men stood in overwhelmed silence, looking agape at the level of destruction. A large chunk of concrete had been hurled out of the building, destroying an entire car. It looked like the roof had been blown up into the air and dropped back down. Over half of the building had been leveled by the explosion. Parents, school administrators, and teachers had already begun the recovery effort when Wade and his men started to pitch in. It was a harrowing day, recovering more dead than live, and more parts than wholes. The gruesome scenes brought grown men to tears at times. Some of the men helping out were roughnecks that had children in the school and some ended up recovering their own children's bodies.

Just after nightfall, Wade entered what used to be the sixth grade classroom and began moving debris to try to find any survivors. The room was dark and eerily silent except for the sound of his own movement and falling concrete and dust. He sat down his flashlight and focused it on where he was working. After a few minutes of clearing debris, he heard faint sobbing. It sounded like the crying of a child, so he began working more quickly. After working for a while, he uncovered the upper body of a blonde little girl with her arms crossed over her face. She was shaking and crying. Her arms had abrasions and cuts, and Wade gently moved them away from her face so he could examine her arms and her head.

"Are you okay, sweetie?" he asked as he wiped the concrete dust from her eyes and cheeks.

The girl began crying harder.

"What's your name?" he asked as he brushed more concrete dust from her hair.

"Helen," she quietly said through sobs.

"Helen, I'm going to get you out of here. I just have to remove some more of this rubble. Do you hurt anywhere?" Wade asked in a quiet, fatherly tone.

"My leg," she said again through sobs.

"Which one?"

"My right one," she replied.

"Okay, Helen. Just stay calm and I'll get you out of here," Wade replied. He continued digging the girl out for a few minutes, when he was finally able to see her lower body. He looked down at her right leg and forced himself to hide his shock at seeing a leg he didn't know could be bent in that many ways. "Are you sure you don't hurt anywhere else?" he asked.

"My head, but that's all," she said, the tears finally subsiding.

"Okay. I'm going to lift you and carry you out of here." He clipped the flashlight to his belt and focused it forward to illuminate his path. He lifted her gently. Her left leg seemed normal but her right leg dangled unnaturally.

"I can't feel my leg," the girl said.

"Don't worry about it. We're almost out of here and you're going to get some help," he reassured.

"Okay," she replied.

Wade rushed her outside into the darkness that was illuminated with flashlights, spotlights, and car headlights. "I found a little girl!" he shouted. He was immediately rushed by a small group of parents trying to see if the girl was theirs. Eventually all of them walked away disappointed. Wade moved the girl to a tent that was a makeshift medical treatment area. He laid her down on a cot and covered her with a blanket while a volunteer nurse began to tend her wounds.

"Thanks, Mister," she said.

"You're welcome, honey," he replied. Wade returned to the demolished building and recovered three more child survivors that night. Unfortunately, he found 5 times that many who didn't survive.

After the New London School Explosion, many of the rescuers got bonuses or promotions for their efforts. They were all summoned to Hays' Shreveport office, and met with J.T. Hays personally for recognition.

"Mr. Matlock," the secretary said. "Mr. Hays will see you now."

Wade stood up and took off his fedora hat and walked into J.T. Hays' office. Once inside, he saw the wealthiest person he'd ever been around in his life sitting at his desk. Hays was combing his hair meticulously and motioned for Wade to sit down. Wade did so and looked around the office, seeing a much more modest office than he expected.

"The key to keeping most of your hair is to brush it at least 300 times a day," Hays said.

"Oh?" Wade asked, looking at a balding Hays.

"Yes," Hays replied as he put his brush back in his desk drawer.

Wade said, "Mr. Hays, I can't tell you how much of an honor it is to meet you."

"Never you mind, that. I understand you pitched in at the New London Explosion."

"Yes, sir."

"Did you lose any of your own kin at the explosion?"

"No, sir."

"Thank God." Hays placed a file in front of him and opened it. "It says here you rescued 4 children."

"Yes, sir."

"Let's dispense with the 'sirs.' You can call me J.T."

"Okay."

"I've brought you up here to personally thank you for your hard work and heroism on that day," Hays said.

"Thank you, but I didn't work alone and I'm sure just about everyone in the area there who could help, did," Wade replied.

"Your humility is refreshing, but you still did a great thing, and I thank you."

"You're welcome," Wade said.

"Says here that you are a roustabout," Hays said, looking at the file in front of him.

"Yes, sir, er, uh, I mean, J.T.," Wade said.

"Do you enjoy that work?" Hays asked.

"Yes. It has just enough variety to keep me interested."

"Do you want to do anything else with your life? I mean, being a roustabout is interesting, but it's hard work, right?"

"I like hard work. Keeps me out of trouble," Wade replied.

Hays smiled.

Wade continued, "Eventually, I'd like to gain more experience in the oil industry, save up some money and buy my own oil field or spend some time wildcatting, or operate an oil-related business."

"Do you have any leadership experience?" Hays asked.

"Just in the CCC."

"That's something, even though it's part of that old man Roosevelt's Raw Deal plan," Hays quipped.

Wade was silent.

"Anyway, I wouldn't recommend wildcatting. I'm sure you've heard what it's done to Pop Keller?"

"Yes."

"It's just too risky," said Hays. "How would you save up enough money on a Roustabout's salary to buy your own field or operate a business?"

"Hard work and determination," Wade replied.

"The idealism is also admirable, but do you have any specific plans?"

"I figure I'll take every new opportunity that comes along and never turn them down. I'm bound to move up and achieve my goals, then."

"Definitely a good attitude to have," Hays replied.

The secretary peeked her head into Hays' office, "Mr. Hays, your 1 o'clock appointment is here."

"Thanks, darlin'," Hays replied. He then stood up and Wade did the same and Hays shook his hand. "Mr. Matlock, thanks again for your hard work and heroism on that terrible day. I give you my best wishes for your future."

"Thank you, J.T." Wade replied.

Hays was particularly impressed with Wade for his character, experience, and his desire to be a self-made man. About two months after the explosion, Hays made him manager of operations over one of his East Texas oil fields. It was there that he gained more leadership knowhow, but also some financial management skills.


	2. Chapter 2

William Davis Houston was born in Houston, Texas in 1909, a great grandson of the famous Sam Houston. He was the son of privilege but not the ostentatious new money moving into Texas during his childhood. He had a largely carefree youth and by the time he was 18, he inherited a trust fund, some of which he promptly used for a college education. He attended Rice University from 1927 to 1930 studying business and accounting. Upon graduating, he was immediately hired by J.T. Hays as an accountant and general business manager. The young Bill Houston was broken into business rather quickly with the meteoric rise of Hays Oil that had occurred after Hays purchased the East Texas Oil Field from Hudson "Pop" Keller. By 1933, he received a sizable bonus from Hays which he reinvested into oil and increased his wealth manifold over the next couple of years.

Bill entered J.T. Hays' office. "Hello, J.T."

"Oh, Bill, glad to see you," Hays replied. "C'mon and sit down," he said, motioning to the chair across from his desk.

Bill started to sit as he placed a file on Hays' desk. "I have some invoices for you to sign."

"Thanks, Bill. I'll get to that in a few minutes." Hays put down his newspaper and sighed. "Can you believe that President of ours? He starts his umpteenth government program with this WPA nonsense. He's going to bankrupt this country. If he had just taken my recommendation for the flexible work schedule to increase employment, we wouldn't be in this fix."

"It's certainly worked for employment in this area," Bill humored him.

"I really need to quit reading the paper," Hays said.

"It does seem to only upset you these days," Bill replied.

"That it does," Hays said. "How are you? How's your family?"

"The family's just fine. I'm good," Bill replied.

"Not too long ago you told me you were making some investments. How are those going?" Hays asked.

"Quite good. I put some money into some manufacturers of oil drilling equipment and some other financial sectors. I couldn't have done it without that bonus you gave me," Bill replied.

"You deserved the bonus. You've been working yourself to the bone these first few years of our East Texas boom. I'm glad to hear your investments are working out for you. It's capitalism at its finest," Hays said with a smile.

"Thanks, J.T.," Bill replied.

"You're welcome. I'm just happy to know such a young man with his head planted squarely on his shoulders." Hays continued, "While we're on the topic, I have to talk to you about some financial changes of my own."

"Oh?"

"Yes. I'd like to create another company with some of the shares from J.T. Hays, Incorporated and divide those shares among my children."

"What did you have in mind?" Bill asked.

"I was thinking you could help me with the paperwork to create the subsidiary and draw up six different trusts from that subsidiary."

"Sure. You'll probably need a lawyer, though," Bill replied.

"Yes. I know. I'd like you to help me first and then I'll run it by a lawyer," Hays said.

"Of course I'll help, J.T."

"Great. I'd like to get started on it next week," Hays replied.

"Sounds good," Bill replied.

"In the meantime, I'll sign these invoices for you and get them back to you by the end of the day."

"Thanks," Bill replied.

Bill helped Hays form the subsidiary Serenity Oil Company and the shares were divided into trusts for Hays' six children. Bill was appreciative of the opportunities Hays had given him out of college and he had grown some significant private wealth from his early work with him, but it grew progressively more uncomfortable for Bill, a democrat, to work for Hays. His views on race were particularly distasteful to him, but he also felt significant un-ease at his employer's growing obsession about the evils of Communism.

In 1936, Bill separated from Hays and began to work for one of his competitors, Gil McIntyre, whose views on race were still distasteful to him, but he was a democrat. He had reconciled himself that he lived in the wrong time and place to encounter much enlightenment on racial issues. He worked largely in the same capacity with McIntyre as he did with Hays, but had more contact with some of the men in the oil fields, particularly the men in charge of operations. It was in 1939, that Bill met Wade Matlock on one of McIntyre's oil fields.

"Hello. Pleased to meet you. My name is Bill Houston," he said to the man with tousled hair and oil on his face.

"Wade Matlock. I'd shake your hand, but…," he said as he showed him his hands which were even oilier than his face. He continued to size up the diminutive, dark-haired Bill Houston, taking him in from head to toe. "You're a little over-dressed for an oil field, aren't you?" Wade asked looking at the "dandy" in the three-piece suit.

"You're probably right," Bill said looking down at his suit.

"What brings you here?" Wade asked.

"McIntyre has sent me around visiting various operations to see if anything is needed for more productive or efficient production."

"Oh, well... Let's go into my office and I'll make a list," Wade said, pulling out a cigar in his breast pocket and popping it into the corner of his mouth.

Bill followed Wade to his office, which was a simple shed with a door and a couple of windows. Inside was a desk with papers scattered over it. "How long have you worked for McIntyre?"

Wade lit his cigar with a match and looked up at the ceiling. "Let's see….I'd say about a year ago." He motioned to one of the two chairs in the small office. "Have a seat," he said, and opened his desk drawer and pulled out a steno pad and a pen.

"You're pretty young to be working in this job. Where did you work before?" Bill asked.

"I could say the same about you. You look like you're pretty young and pretty high up based on your suit," Wade replied as he sat down.

"I'm 30."

"Ah. You must have a baby face, then," Wade replied.

"How old are you?" Bill asked.

"I'm 23, and to answer your other question, I worked for J.T. Hays as a roustabout and a manager of operations of one of his East Texas oil fields," Wade replied.

"Oh? I worked for Hays Oil too," Bill said.

"I guess our paths never crossed back then," Wade said.

"They wouldn't have. I was confined to mostly office work," Bill said.

"How are you liking being in the field?"

"I get to travel some, and I like learning about how these operations work," Bill said. "How did you end up working for McIntyre?"

"After the New London Explosion, Hays gave me that manager position and McIntyre bought that oil field and I stayed on."

"Unbelievable tragedy. I left Hays about a year before that happened."

"Probably for the best. Families were out for hides," Wade said.

"Yes. I read all about that," Bill replied.

"How long have you been with McIntyre?" Wade asked.

"About three years."

"How are you liking it?" Wade asked.

"It's a lot better. It was difficult at times, working for Hays," Bill replied.

"I know what you mean. He had some strange notions," Wade said.

"It got tiresome hearing about the Communists all the time," Bill said.

Wade laughed. "Oh yes. They're everywhere, aren't they?" He laughed again.

Bill laughed with him. "The man is obsessed."

"Yeah. He would talk badly about FDR and it was all I could do but not set him straight," Wade replied.

"Yeah. I'm glad voting ballots are secret or else I know he'd have a conniption looking at mine," Bill said.

Wade laughed again. "Mine too." Wade continued, "My first job was with the CCC, thanks to FDR. I was able to send money home to support my family and gain on-the-job experience. I also made great friends and FDR has really turned this country around. I couldn't see what Hays' problem was with him, honestly. The proof is in the pudding, as they say."

Bill replied, "I know what you mean. He just believes in unfettered capitalism. I'm not sure that's what's best for society. People tend to work better and more morally within reasonable parameters and limitations. At least, that's what I've noticed in my experience."

"I agree. I'm glad McIntyre's a democrat. I also like that he's a brawler, like me. I'm grateful for Hays being my first employer, but McIntyre seems more down-to-earth than Hays."

"I know what you mean," Bill replied.

"Here's your list," Wade said as he ripped off a page from the steno pad and handed it to Bill across his desk.

"Thanks," Bill said. "Listen, what do you like to do when you're not working?"

"As little as possible," Wade quipped. He continued, "I like to play cards and fish. Why?"

"I think we have a lot to talk about and would get along," Bill said.

Wade puffed on his cigar and looked at Bill's suit again. "You don't wear a suit to fish, do you?"

Bill laughed, "No. Of course not."

"Glad to hear it," Wade said. "Sure, we could get together for some fishing sometime."

"Great."

"There's a creek not too far from here that has some good fishing. Why don't we meet here on Saturday at 6 am or so, and I'll take you out there?" Wade proposed.

"Sounds like a plan," Bill said, and extended his hand as he stood up. "Oh yeah," he said, looking at Wade's hands. "Nevermind. I'll see you here on Saturday."

Over the next year, Wade and Bill grew in friendship. They fished, hunted, and played cards together with some other friends. Even though Bill was wealthy, he had a variety of friends from all social and economic levels and was an amiable fellow who really enjoyed having a lot of friends. He said many times that he didn't think that money but friends were the measure of a man, and he lived that credo.

In 1940, Bill purchased some of McIntyre's smaller oil operations and started his own company which he named, Houston Oil, Inc. After he got all the incorporation paperwork finished, he asked Wade to work for him as a manager of operations from the central office and got him out of the fields.


	3. Chapter 3

"_From the NBC newsroom in New York… President Roosevelt said in a statement  
today that the Japanese have attacked the Pearl Harbor, Hawaii from the air.  
I'll repeat that. Roosevelt says that the Japanese have attacked Pearl Harbor in  
Hawaii, from the air. This bulletin came to you from the NBC newsroom in New York."_

Bill turned off the radio in his office where he and Wade were both sitting after coming back from lunch. "I guess this means we'll be going to war," Bill said.

"Sounds like a good reason to go to war to me. I've been wondering why we haven't tried to stop that maniac in Germany yet," Wade said.

"I've been wondering the same myself," replied Bill.

"This is going to be a big one, Bill. Another World War," Wade said.

"Yes it is," Bill said with a sigh.

"The stakes are a lot higher now. Everyone is trying to develop a nuclear bomb first, including old Adolf. We can't let that evil man use a nuclear bomb," Wade said.

"You're right. Well, I can't enlist because of my heart problem, but I can use my money to help the war effort," Bill declared.

"What do you have in mind?" Wade asked.

"I've been in contact with a friend of mine in England since the war broke in Europe a couple of years ago. His name is Richard Brant. He owns a steel manufacturing plant. He helps the war effort by manufacturing weapons and parts of military vehicles. He's been wanting the Americans to get involved this whole time. He mentioned not too long ago to me that they could use some help from the oil industry in the U.S." Bill explained.

"In what way?" Wade asked.

"Petrochemicals," Bill replied.

"Chemicals derived from oil?"

"That's right."

"For what?" Wade asked.

"He's been talking about needing help with synthetic rubber and explosives. I'm sure the U.S. will need the same."

"We're Johnny-Come-Latelies to this war. Do you have a refinery that produces the petrochemicals needed for this effort?"

"Not yet, but I've been considering acquiring a struggling refinery on the coast of Corpus Christi. I think I could turn it around quickly with my connections."

"How quickly?" Wade asked.

"A couple of months after acquisition, after I put in some of my experts," Wade replied.

"That's pretty fast," Wade said.

"Well, all of the processes at the refinery should be in place, and the owners of that refinery don't have the connections I do," Bill said with confidence. He continued, "I also know Senator Tom Connally. He could put me in touch with the federal officials I need to be in touch with to alert them to my desire to help."

"How long will it take to acquire the refinery?" Wade asked.

"I know the owner is wanting to unload it fast, so it shouldn't take very long at all."

"This sounds like a great idea," Wade replied.

"I'll take a loss on this refinery to help the war effort and charge the government at cost," Bill said.

"How can I help?" Wade asked.

"After I purchase the refinery, I'll need you to go down and inspect the operations and see what's needed. I'll do some research beforehand to find out what we need for the production of synthetic rubber and explosives. If we have to do too much retrofitting, then we'll just have to provide low cost oil to a petrochemical plant that already has the capability."

"I can do that. Just say when and I'll go," Wade said. He changed the subject. "I can't believe we're going to do this again. The losses were incredible in the first World War. I was just a baby when we got involved in that one."

"Yes. I was a small child. All war is tragic, but this one is necessary," Bill replied.

"I know. We've been attacked and there's really no other way at this point. Still, a lot of young men are going to die," Wade said.

"Yes they are. All we can hope for is for a short war. We need to act decisively and powerfully and end it as soon as we can. If we had gotten involved earlier, this might not have ever happened or at least the war would be closer to being over instead of just beginning."

Early in 1942, Bill was able, with Wade's help, to get the refinery in Corpus Christi running up to speed and had a government contract to produce the petrochemicals needed to produce synthetic rubber and explosives, but made no profit on the endeavor. Wade had begun to have a crisis of conscience, however.

"What's the matter, Wade?" Bill asked as his friend flopped down in one of his office chairs and wrung his hat in his hands.

"I don't think I'm doing enough," Wade said.

"What do you mean?"

"Sure, I've helped you with the refinery and getting that operational and productive, but I don't think I'm doing enough for the war effort, personally."

"I don't understand," Bill said.

"A lot of my friends have gone off to fight in the war, and a couple have already been killed."

"And you feel guilty because you're still here?"

"Yes," Wade replied.

"What do you plan to do?" Bill asked.

"I'm thinking of enlisting and going over there," Wade said.

"Are you sure?"

"I think so. I'm in good shape and I'm still young enough to fight," Wade said.

"Yes. But you may not come back," Bill said.

"I know. But I feel like I should be there to defend, not just the country, but my friends that are already there," Wade said.

"Your heart is certainly in the right place," Bill replied.

"Yeah," he said leaning back on his chair and straightening his hat. "I know this will derail my future plans if I come back, but I feel like it's the right thing to do."

"It sounds like you've already decided," Bill said.

"I think I have," Wade replied.

"Well, if you're worried about your future when you come back, you can always come back to work here or I can connect you with another job," Bill said.

"Thanks Bill. You're a great friend," Wade replied.

"You are too. You need to make it back, though, so I can have my fishing buddy back," he said with a smile.

Wade smiled back. "Well, that's motivation enough for me!" he exclaimed.

Shortly after Wade enlisted in the U.S. Army in the middle of 1942, Bill attended a party hosted by Gil McIntyre at his new mansion on Braeswood Boulevard. McIntyre had the eclectic, plantation-style mansion built in 1938 by Morton McGuire, but had not had a proper house-warming party yet. The party was a veritable who's who of the Houston social elite. Bill wasn't much of a social climber and preferred small groups to large crowds, so he wandered off outside into the rear garden. He walked a few feet into the garden and saw a beautiful, auburn-haired woman sipping a glass of wine sitting on a stone bench.

He cleared his throat to get her attention without scaring her. "Am I interrupting something?"

"Oh, hello. No. I'm just getting away from the hustle and bustle," she said.

"Me too," he said walking up to her with his glass in hand. "Do you go to these events a lot?"

"More than I want to," she replied. "Are you here alone?"

"Yes. Are you?" he inquired.

"No, I came here with my cousin. This is really his event to attend. I'm just tagging along," she replied.

"Oh. Do you mind if I sit next to you?"

"No," she said as she held the skirt part of her dress and scooted over to give him room.

"Thanks. I've been standing for about an hour," he said.

"I understand," she said, reaching to her right beside the bench with her right hand and presenting her high heels and lifting the edge of her dress to wiggle her toes in her hosieries.

Bill smiled at that. "I'm sure glad I don't have to wear those shoes," he said.

"It's a trade-off. You have to tie that bowtie," she said with a wink.

Bill was quite taken with this mysterious woman immediately. "What's your name?" he asked with a smile.

"Rebecca Nathan," she said as she extended her right hand, palm-down.

Bill took her hand and shook it gently and said, "Nice to meet you. I'm Bill Houston."

"Nice to meet you too," she said, moving her hair behind her left ear.

"So, your cousin must be someone of note if he's here at McIntyre's party," Bill said.

"Our family owns a chain of department stores. I'll let you guess which," she replied.

Bill was enchanted by her mix of coyness and frankness.

She continued, "Really, it's his side of the family that is more involved with the business than ours. He just didn't want to go alone to this party."

"You don't seem to mind being alone since I found you out here," he said.

"Neither do you," she said. "I'm more comfortable with a few friends or quietly reading a book somewhere."

"Me too. So, your cousin must know this about you. Why did he invite you, then?" Bill asked.

"Probably to detract from his bald spot," she joked.

"Well, you are quite distracting," Bill replied.

"Thanks," she said with her cheeks blushing. "You're charming and well-spoken. What sort of work are you involved in?"

"Oil," he replied.

"Oh, yes….You're the Houston that started out with McIntyre and struck out on his own. Houston Oil, right?"

"Yes," Bill replied.

"Bold move," she said.

"It was risky, but I'm doing alright," Bill said.

"I see that," she said, looking him up and down.

Bill stuck his fingers in his collar and stretched it a little. "Would you like to have dinner some time?" Bill asked.

"I thought you'd never ask. Yes, I would like that very much," she replied

"I've only been here a few minutes," Bill said.

"Life's short," she said with another wink.

He took her hand and kissed the top of it. "Let's plan on dinner soon, then."


	4. Chapter 4

Bill and Rebecca courted for about a year until they married in late 1943. Bill purchased 2500 acres of land west of downtown Houston and built a mansion on it. The mansion was a Palladian style villa with a sprawling front lawn, a Roman portico with two stairways leading up to a porch with a balustrade that ran the length of the mansion. The entryway to the mansion was designed with three tall Roman arches with Corinthian pilasters flanking them. The mansion had a large living room, several bathrooms, 10 bedrooms, a combination library and den, and a large kitchen and dining room. Soon after building the mansion and moving in, Bill and Rebecca met their neighbor, Annie Hickok, who everyone called "Cattle Annie." The name was apt since she was in the cattle business and one of the biggest cattle ranching tycoons around. She was unique for her time and place as a self-made woman and confirmed bachelorette. She lived on a similarly sized ranch next to Bill but had several other ranches across Texas.

A knock came at the door of the Houston mansion around dusk on a summer night in 1944. "I'll get it," Bill said, on the way to the door, calling to Rebecca who was in the living room.

"Howdy, neighbor!" a middle-aged blonde woman enthusiastically said as he opened the door. She thrust a bottle of red wine toward him and he took it out of politeness, not knowing the woman at his door.

"Thanks," Bill said. "Who are you?" he asked with a quizzical expression.

"Oh, my lands, I'm sorry! My name is Annie Hickok, but you can call me Cattle Annie. I'm your neighbor. I've been away for a while in West Texas, and when I got back, I heard that an oil man had purchased the land next door. You're not goin' to drill here, are ya?" she asked.

"No. I thought I'd start a small livestock ranch myself," Bill replied.

"Oh, good. I'd hate to have to look at those derricks interruptin' the landscape," she said. She rethought what she said and continued, "No offense. You bein' an oil man and all."

"No offense taken," Bill replied.

"Ain't ya goin' to invite me in?" she asked as Rebecca showed up behind Bill.

"C'mon in, Miss?" Rebecca asked while looking perplexed at Bill.

"Annie Hickok, but you can call me Cattle Annie," she replied.

"Well, Cattle Annie, I'm Rebecca. I'm Bill's wife," she said, taking in the colorful fashion of Cattle Annie who was dressed like a middle-aged Hollywood cowgirl or the president of the Dale Evans Fan Club.

She shook Rebecca's hand and turned to Bill in kind, "Nice to meet you too, Bill?"

"Houston," he said and they both led Annie to the living room.

Annie made herself comfortable on the couch while Bill went to the bar and opened the bottle of wine and poured everyone a glass.

"You sure do have a nice place here," she said, taking in as much as she could see. "And a beautiful wife," Annie continued.

"Thank you, Cattle Annie," Rebecca replied as Bill handed the women their glasses of wine.

Annie took a sip of her wine. "So, ranchin', huh?"

"Yes," Bill replied.

"Know anythin' about ranchin'?"

"I grew up on a ranch, and I've been wanting to get back to it," Bill replied.

"Seems to me, you'd be busy enough, doin' what you're doin'," Annie replied. "What kind of animals were ya thinkin' of raisin'?"

"Cattle and horses. Rebecca loves to ride horses and we're planning a family, and I'd like to keep my children grounded doing something with their hands," Bill replied.

"You don't have to convince me. I love critters. Have all my life. And I agree, carin' for animals is great for children."

Rebecca chimed in, "What is it that you do, Cattle Annie?"

"Well, I suppose to make it easy, I'd say that I handle the business end of a whole bunch of different cattle ranches in Texas, some dairy and some beef cattle. I have my own ranch next door as you can see, but I've scaled down on that quite a bit over the last couple of years. Other than a small herd of prize Angus cattle, I have some chickens, some cattle dogs, and a few barn cats."

"What does your husband do?" Rebecca asked.

"I don't have one," Annie replied.

"I'm sorry," Rebecca said as she blushed for prying.

"Oh, don't be sorry, honey. You might say I'm footloose and fancy free and it's just the way I like it," she said winking at both of them. "Hey. Do you mind if I smoke? I like to have a cigarette with my wine, if it's okay with you."

Rebecca looked at Bill, who just sipped his wine and smiled, and then she said, "Go ahead."

Annie lit up a cigarette and leaned back and puffed on it.

"How do you do it all yourself," Rebecca asked.

"I don't do it myself, honey. I'm rich," she replied with sass. "I've got lots of hands on my ranch that take care of things and I help out when I'm here."

"Oh," Rebecca replied.

"How long have you been ranching, Cattle Annie," Bill asked.

Taking a puff on her cigarette and exhaling, she said, "I'd say 'bout 15 years."

"That's pretty fast to become so wealthy," Bill said.

"I could say the same thing about you. That's what I've heard, anyway. You've gotta be a whole 10 or 15 years younger than me, but then again, I also heard about your family pedigree, so you probably had your foot in the door already," she replied.

"Probably," Bill humored her. Rebecca just smirked at Bill.

"You're quite the character, Cattle Annie," Rebecca said. "And refreshingly honest."

"Thank you, honey. I just wanted to come over here and meet you before the rumors all started flyin' around here."

"What do you mean?" Bill asked.

"Some people mistake this old single lady with the business mind and her straight-talkin' for someone without a heart. It ain't true, I'm here to tell you."

"Well, you seem nice to me," Rebecca said.

"Now, I didn't say I was nice, honey. Just that I have a heart, meanin', I care. I can be a low-down dirty bitch if there's a need," Annie replied.

"Can't we all?" Rebecca quipped.

Bill gulped his wine, but smiled afterward.

"Bill, I assume that you're in the market for some cattle and horses right now?"

"Yes," he replied.

"Well, I'm here on a social call and not a business trip, so if you'd like some cattle, I can give you a few for free to start your ranch and put you in touch with a man I know who deals in horses – good horses."

"Thanks, Cattle Annie, I'd be very appreciative, but, you don't have to give me the cattle. I can afford to buy them."

"Don't you worry about that. Consider it a gift," she replied.

"Cattle Annie, really, it's not necessary," Bill said.

"Suit yourself. If you want to buy them from me, I'd still like to give you a neighborly discount."

Rebecca shot Bill a look and said, "That would be nice, Cattle Annie. We'll take you up on that. And we'd definitely like the name of your horse man."

"Will do. When the time comes, I can help you find some ranch hands. Just let me know," Annie said.

Changing the subject, Annie continued, "Do either of you play poker?"

"I do," Bill replied.

"I'm open to learning," Rebecca said.

"Good. We're going to be great friends," Annie declared as she stood up. "Well, folks, I won't impose on your evening any longer. I just wanted to drop by and say hi to y'all and welcome you to the neighborhood."

"Thank you," Bill said. "And thank you for the wine."

"Definitely," Rebecca said. "I'll see you to the door." Bill poured himself another glass of wine as the two women left the living room.

A few moments later, Rebecca returned. "Bill, you really should have accepted her gift," she lovingly chastised.

"I hardly know her," he said.

"Still, it can't be easy for a woman like her to make such an offer."

"A woman like her?" he asked.

"She has to be strong like a man to achieve as much as she has. I'm sure people misunderstand her a lot, as she said. She probably gets rejected a lot or even ignored. She seems genuine to me. I like her. Don't turn down her kindnesses, anymore, okay?"

"Okay, I won't."

"We should set up that poker game soon. Why don't you take care of that? And maybe you can give me some lessons before we play. I have a feeling she'll clean house with the both of us."

"I got the same feeling," Bill said sipping his wine.

Cattle Annie left town again for a week and when she returned, the Houstons set up a card game with her on a Saturday night. The Houston's gardener, José Santos, was an avid poker player and joined them, each taking turns as dealer in an evening playing Texas Hold'em. José, a lithe man, with dark hair and a connoisseur mustache was the first to deal.

"So, Rebecca, honey, did Bill teach some about Texas Hold'em while I was away?"

"A little about that and Five Card Stud," Rebecca replied.

"I think you'll like Texas Hold'em a lot better. Right, Bill?" Annie asked.

"I prefer it myself," Bill replied.

"What are we playing for? I don't want to get wiped out, being an amateur," said Rebecca.

"Well, let's consider this a practice game. I suggest penny ante," Annie said as she produced a bag of rolled pennies. "I brought some to share."

"Cattle Annie, you shouldn't have," Bill said.

"Oh, hush, Bill. It's only pennies and next time we'll all bring our own and maybe move our way up to some bigger stakes," she said as she lit a cigarette and handed out the rolls of pennies in equal amounts to everyone at the table.

"Sounds, great Cattle Annie," Rebecca said. "This way, I won't lose my shirt."

Bill squeezed her upper arm and winked at her.

"Yep. And the best way to learn is actually playing the game, so let's get started, you love birds," Cattle Annie replied.

The four played the game for three hours, with Annie smoking and everyone drinking wine. Each person had won at least one hand but it was José that had cleaned up that night.

"Looks like we have a ringer here, Bill," Cattle Annie observed.

"I had no idea. I've never played with him until tonight," said Bill. "How long have you been playing poker, José?" Bill asked looking in José's direction.

José sheepishly grinned and said, "About ten years, se_ñ_or."

"Bill, honey, don't be such a sore loser. You know that time playin' don't matter. He's just got a better poker face than you. Great job, José. I look forward to playin' with you again." She looked at Rebecca and said, "You too, honey. You've got a great poker face. You just need to work on your strategy. Practice will fix that."

"Guess I'll have to work on my poker face, like you suggested," Bill agreed.

"I would, honey. It will help you with more than just poker," she said as she puffed on her cigarette and winked at him.


	5. Chapter 5

Around Christmas of 1944, the Houstons threw a holiday party and invited mainly their household staff, neighbors, and a few friends. They had their party catered so their staff could enjoy the party as well. Rebecca had expertly decorated the living room, kitchen, and dining room with holiday decorations. The room glimmered in the complementary colors of red and green and the twinkling of glitter, garlands, and tinsel. Bill had a large spruce brought in from his property that nearly touched their 15 foot ceiling in the living room. They both had tastefully decorated it in minimal but bright decorations. Rebecca had taken the time to make old-fashioned popcorn and cranberry garland for the tree. Every guest that attended received a plush Santa hat to wear. A string quartet was at the top of the landing above the living room playing Christmas favorites.

The food was arranged on the dining room table while the caterers worked from the kitchen. All of the guests were standing or sitting in the living room talking with each other and drinking holiday libations made at the caterer's open bar: Egg Nog, Hot Cocoa with Peppermint Schnapps, the usual wine offerings, and a Christmas Sangria. Once the party was in full swing and everyone had had something to eat and drink, Rebecca and Bill stood in front of the Christmas tree, and Bill clinked his glass with a fork to get everyone's attention.

"Excuse me, everyone," Bill repeated a third time. He waited for silence and attention. The music stopped. "Now that I have your attention," he said, putting his arm around Rebecca, "Rebecca and I would like to thank you all for coming to our party. We are glad to have such wonderful people in our lives."

The room applauded.

Bill continued, "This is what life is all about…. Being surrounded by the people you care about the most and who care about you."

The room applauded again.

"That's why it's with great joy that we share a very important announcement with you," he continued. "Actually, Rebecca, why don't you make the announcement, dear," he said, squeezing her shoulders.

"Well everyone, it seems fitting to announce at this party tonight, that I am in fact, pregnant with our first child," Rebecca announced.

The crowd of 30 or so people applauded and cheered uproariously. Cattle Annie, who was dressed in a Christmas themed cowgirl getup, took off her hat and slapped her thigh with it and yelled, "Yee Haw!"

Over the next several minutes, everyone took their turn to come up and congratulate the couple on their first child. After they had all given their congratulations and best wishes, Bill said, "Thank you, so much, everyone. Now let's get back to the party!" He smiled and kissed Rebecca on the lips. Everyone applauded again and the music resumed.

People broke off into cliques: household staff together, neighbors with neighbors, friends with friends, but Bill and Rebecca, ever the capable hosts, circulated the room, visiting with all in attendance. Guests began leaving around 10 pm and all but Cattle Annie were gone by 11. The three sat chatting about the evening, when a knock came on the door. Bill got up to answer it.

"Someone must have forgotten something," Bill said on the way to the door. "Be right back, ladies." Bill opened the door.

"Hi Bill."

After the initial shock wore off, Bill wrapped his arms around his uniformed friend and said, "Wade! Are you home for good?"

Wade hugged him back hard and patted him on the back and released him. "Yep. Just in time for Christmas. Almost out of a greeting card," he quipped. Wade removed his hat, revealing his crew cut.

"Wow. I think that's the shortest I've seen your hair," Bill said.

"Don't get used to it. I plan on growing it out again," Wade replied.

"How did you find the house?" Bill asked.

"Called the Houston Oil office and talked to your secretary today. She said you were out all day but told me where you lived."

"C'mon in. You've got to meet my wife and a friend of ours."

"Am I interrupting something," Wade asked.

"No. We just had a holiday party, but it's over now. C'mon," he said, grabbing him by the arm and escorting the much taller man to the living room.

Bill walked over to Rebecca who was sitting on the couch and he rested his hand on her shoulder, "Wade, this is my wife Rebecca." Rebecca almost stood up.

"Don't stand up, ma'am," Wade said as he approached her and shook her hand. "Pleased to meet you, Rebecca." Wade looked at Cattle Annie.

Bill gestured to Cattle Annie and said, "This is Cattle Annie. She owns the ranch next door."

"Pleased to meet you, too, ma'am."

"You best dispense with that ma'am stuff, right away, and commence callin' me Cattle Annie, like my friends here. Any friend of Bill's is a friend of mine."

"Thank you ma'am. I'll do that," Wade replied.

"Cigarette?" Annie offered.

"Thank you. I think I will," Wade said as he took the cigarette and Annie lit it for him. He looked around the room observing the party's aftermath. "I suppose there's some booze here to drink, since there's been a party," he said.

"Absolutely," Bill said. "What would you like?"

"Got any Bourbon?" Wade replied.

"No. Afraid the hardest thing we have is some sangria with brandy," Bill said.

"That'll do," Wade replied.

"You back from the war for good, Wade?" Annie asked.

Bill handed Wade his drink, which he eagerly drank. Wade replied, "Yes."

"Where were you?" Bill asked.

"Sorry I haven't written this whole time. The war kept me busy," Wade said.

"I would imagine so. I didn't expect you to write. I just hoped to see you back here alive and here you are," Bill beamed.

"To answer your question, I was released from a hospital in England a few weeks ago, and I finally made my way back to Texas today."

"Are you okay?" Rebecca asked.

"Yes, ma'am," Wade replied. "The last mission I was on was D-Day. I was on Omaha Beach."

The trio of listeners all looked at each other aghast, all having heard the news reports on the radio and seen news reels at the theater about the Normandy Invasion. They all sat silently and listened intently.

Wade continued with a faraway look in his eyes and the drink in his hands, "I was on one of the boats that landed on the beach that day. It was total Bedlam. Bullets were whizzing past us. Men dropping left and right, but we pushed ahead. Once past the beachhead, we pushed into the wooded areas and battled the Germans on land. Paratroopers had already dropped behind enemy lines, so our job was to put the squeeze on them from the beach. We were able to push them back despite thousands of casualties. Day two was even more grueling for my battalion. Right before the end of the mission, a German threw a grenade at a group of men near me, one of which was already shot and on the ground. I yelled to tell the men to run, and ran up to get the man on the ground. After I picked him up and helped him run with me, the grenade went off and some shrapnel hit me in the lower leg. Right here," he said lifting his pant leg and revealed the scar. He continued, "On day three, the mission was accomplished, but I had been transported back to a hospital in England by airlift."

"What happened to the soldier you rescued?" Annie asked.

"He was shipped back to England with me and he recovered and I think he went back home to Iowa," Wade replied.

"And you've been in England since then?" Rebecca asked.

"Yes, ma'am. Took a few months to get back on my feet, then I got honorably discharged and toured England for a while."

"Well, I'm so glad you're back in one piece, Wade," Bill said.

"Me too," Bill replied as he got up to pour himself another Sangria.

"Where are you staying?" Bill asked.

"Don't know yet," Wade replied.

"You have to stay with us, then. We have plenty of room," Bill replied.

"I couldn't impose," Wade said.

"You're not," Rebecca said. "We'd love to have you."

"Thank you very much," Wade said.

"Why don't you tell your friend your big news, Bill?" Annie said.

"What's up, Bill?" Wade asked.

"I'm going to be a father," Bill replied.

"Congratulations, Bill!" Wade exclaimed as he rose to his feet and hugged him again. "That's great news!"

"Thank you, Wade. Can I help you with your bags?" Bill asked.

Wade looked down at the only bag he brought, "This is it. I can handle it."

"Let me show you to your room, then," Bill said.

Wade stood up and gulped his drink and put the empty glass down on the coffee table, "Nice meeting you ladies," Wade said.

"You too," Rebecca said. "See you in the morning."

"Nice to meet you Wade," Annie said. "Have a restful sleep."

"Thanks, Cattle Annie. I'll try," Wade said.

Bill grabbed Wade's bag and walked him up the stairs to one of the bedrooms.

"Your wife's beautiful, Bill. You've done quite well for yourself."

"Thank you," Bill replied.

"Now you've got a baby on the way," Wade paused. "And I hope I can catch up on lost time and achieve at least close to what you have."

"You will," Bill said.

"I hope you're right. I feel like an entirely different person."

"I understand. Whenever you're ready, you can come back and work with me," Bill said.

"Thanks for your offer, but I don't know what I'll do yet," Wade said.

"Take your time. There's no hurry. And you can stay with us as long as you need," Bill said.

"Thanks, Bill. I think I'll lay down now and try to sleep," Wade said.

"Okay, Wade," Bill said, patting Wade on the back.

Wade stayed with the Houstons for a little over a month before he started working with Bill again and began renting an apartment in downtown Houston. Shortly after he went back to work with Bill, a tragedy struck the Houstons. Rebecca had a miscarriage and Bill took some time off to spend it with her.

"Cattle Annie told me that it's very common for women to have a miscarriage on their first pregnancy," Rebecca said in a lamenting tone, trying to make sense of what happened.

"Rebecca, it's not your fault. It wasn't meant to be this time," Bill said.

"I wish I could be as rational about it as you are, Bill, but I was the one carrying the baby," she said in an abrupt way.

"I know," he said, not knowing what more to say.

"I'm 33 years old. I'm afraid I'm past my prime," Rebecca said.

"There's no way that's true," Bill said. "When you're ready, we'll try again and you'll see." He continued, "Besides, if you are past your prime, as you say, you are still the most beautiful woman I've ever seen and if it turns out we never have children, at least I'll be spending my life with you," Bill reassured.

"Oh, Bill," Rebecca said, leaning in to hug him.

"In the meantime, we'll have fun trying," he said, to lighten the mood.

Rebecca slapped him on the back and continued hugging him.


	6. Chapter 6

"Bill, I have to talk to you," Wade said to Bill walking into his office at Houston Oil.

"What is it, Wade? Sit down," Bill said, gesturing to one of the two chairs across from his desk.

"I wanted to thank you for helping me get back in the swing of things after the war," Wade said.

"I couldn't imagine doing anything else," Bill said. "But?"

"But, I think it's time for me to move on," Wade said.

"Oh?"

"Yes. I'd like to strike out on my own and be a wildcatter for a while," Wade said.

"Well, you know how risky that is, Wade, right?"

"Yes. I think that's what's drawing me to it right now. Ever since getting back from the war, I feel like I have to move all the time. I'm craving the action I had there. I seem to need some risk to feel alive," Wade said.

"I suppose that's understandable, but are you sure you don't need to think about it a little longer? There are a lot of wildcatters out there competing to strike it rich, and most of them don't make it."

"I know. I just need to make my own way for a while," Wade replied.

"Well, if you need any help, let me know. I'm here for you," Bill said.

"Thanks Bill. I know and I appreciate it," Wade said. "There is one thing I need in the short term."

"Anything," Bill said.

"Can I use your geologist and surveyor if I find some land that I think has oil? They'd have to be on your payroll until I start making some money."

"Sure," Bill said. "As long as you need."

"It probably won't be long. I have a hunch and I think it will pay off. I'll pay you back as soon as I can."

"I know you're good for it, Wade," Bill replied.

Wade's hunch was that there was oil under his family's land in Round Top. His siblings had all moved to California for work and his parents moved in with his sister and her husband who worked construction. The Matlock land still belonged to the family but lay dormant due to the family's absence. Wade brought Bill's geologist in to inspect the rock on the land, even though he had read some books on the subject and felt confident there was oil under the ground. The geologist was about 65% certain that there was oil under the ground based on his observations. Wade had Bill's surveyor map out the land and he contacted his family to share his intent. He offered to give his parents 20% of the profits and 10% to each of his siblings, and he'd keep 50% since he was putting in all the capital and taking the risks. The family agreed since none of them cared for the land anymore. After that, he had the agreements with his family drawn up and the title to the land was granted to him by his parents. He arranged a loan with the bank to help with financing construction and drilling. Bill cosigned the loan.

In June of 1945, after drilling for a month with a small crew, Wade's dream came true. He struck oil on his family's land. Within a few more months he was pumping and selling oil. He made enough on this first venture to pay back Bill with interest as well as the bank loan and was also able to compensate his family and still make a sizeable profit. He purchased more land nearby and kept drilling and finding oil well into the next year. 1946 proved to be an excellent year for Wade as he amassed a small personal fortune.

Early in the winter of 1947, Wade was having lunch at one of his favorite restaurants, the Triple A. A new waitress came up to his table, or at least one he hadn't seen before. She had brown hair that appeared to be quite long, though it was obscured by a knit hair net. She had large dark brown eyes and a dimple in her left cheek. Wade happened to be wearing a suit that day due to a meeting and he wore his hair slicked back as well.

"Sir, may I get you something to drink?" the waitress asked.

"Uh, um, yes," he said, looking at the menu so as to not stare at her.

"I'll take a glass of buttermilk and some water," Wade said.

"Okay," she said with a big smile, "I'll be right back," she said.

Wade pretended to read his menu while he was actually watching her walk away, sizing up the harmony of her personal dimensions. A few minutes later, the waitress returned.

She put down the drinks. "Do you know what you'd like for lunch, sir?" she asked.

"Uh, um….let's see….I'd like a chicken fried steak, some French fries, and the vegetable of the day."

"Oh, I forgot to tell you what it is. I'm new. Sorry. It's turnip greens," she said.

"That's alright. There's not much I won't eat. I'll take the turnip greens," he said with a smile.

She picked up his menu and began to turn away.

"What's your name?" Wade asked.

"Oh, no," she said, turning back, and lightly smacking her forehead, "I forgot to tell you that too. I'm just nervous. This is my first job."

"That's alright," he said, and then waited for her response.

"Thanks," she said. "My name is Susan."

"Nice to meet you, Susan? My name is Wade Matlock," he said.

"Ferguson. Your name sounds like a cowboy name if I ever heard one," she said.

"Not a cowboy, but I can see that," he replied with another smile.

"Well, your food should be ready soon, Mr. Matlock," she said.

"Call me Wade. I come here a lot," he said.

"Okay, Wade. See you in a few minutes," she replied.

"Lookin' forward to it," he said.

She gave him a puzzled but intrigued look and walked away. Another waitress brought Wade his food.

"What happened to Susan?" he asked the matronly lifelong waitress.

"She's getting food for another table. We all run each other's food," she said.

Wade started eating his food, reassured that he didn't offend Susan. She walked up to Wade a few minutes later.

"Did you get everything you asked for?" she asked.

"Yep," he said between bites.

"Does it taste alright?" she asked.

"It's great," he said.

"Glad to hear it," she said with a smile. "Be back in a few minutes."

He smiled and kept eating. When he finished eating, he placed his napkin over his plate as was his habit. He checked his hair in the window next to his table and straightened his tie. Susan saw the covered plate and came over to bus his table.

"Would you like some dessert, Wade?" she asked.

"No thanks, Susan," he said. "I've got to get back to work."

"Okay. Well, maybe I'll see you again sometime," she replied.

Wade took this to be his opportunity. "Actually, Susan, I think you're absolutely beautiful and I was wondering if you'd like to have dinner with me some time."

Susan blushed. "Oh, gosh. I'm not that beautiful," she said as she turned her face out of shyness or embarrassment. Wade didn't know which.

"What? You've got to be kidding me. You've got to get asked out all the time," he said.

"No. Not really," she said.

"Well, there must be a lot of intimidated men out there, then," he said. "I'm not one of them."

"Intimidated?" she wondered.

"What do you say? Will you have dinner with me?"

"When?"

"Whenever you want," he replied.

She thought to herself for a bit. "Well, I'm pretty busy this week, training and working at the restaurant and all," she said.

"Which would be better? A week night?"

"Actually, Wednesday night next week would be good, because I'm not working. The restaurant runs with a skeleton crew because all the Baptists are at church."

Wade laughed. "Wednesday it is. What would you like to eat?"

"There's this new place, called the Barbeque Inn. I hear it's really good. It's only a couple of miles from here and not too far from my apartment," she replied.

"Would you like me to pick you up?" Wade asked.

"I could meet you there," she replied.

"Great. How about 6:30? Church should be in full swing at that time," he said.

She laughed. "Okay. I'll meet you there next Wednesday at 6:30."

Wade stood up and put down a generous but not flashy tip. "I'll see you then, Susan," he said with a smile.

Wednesday came and Wade stood outside the Barbeque Inn waiting for Susan. He was wearing some dark brown casual slacks, a khaki shirt, a deep red tie, and a light brown leather jacket. A few minutes after he arrived, he observed Susan walking down the side walk under the street lights toward him. As she approached, he watched her face and down to her figure with her ample hips swaying in the black broad-checked skirt she wore. As she came up to him, he saw her hair was out of the hair net and it hung in waves past her shoulders and she had a smile on her face.

"Am I late?" she asked.

"No. You're just on time," Wade said.

"Oh, good. Ready to go in?"

"Absolutely," he said. "After you." She turned and he escorted her in with his hand on the small of her back.

They were seated and the waiter got them their drinks and took their orders.

"You look very pretty tonight," Wade said.

She blushed and averted her gaze. "Thanks. You're sweet."

"You're welcome. I mean it," Wade said. "Tell me about yourself."

"Not much to tell, really. I'm 25. I grew up just outside of Houston. I was raised by my Aunt and Uncle on my mother's side. I've been on my own since I was 18."

"What happened to your parents?"

"My father lost his job in the Depression and became a heavy drinker. He died from drinking bad bootleg liquor. My mother couldn't manage being a mother after that and had a nervous breakdown and her sister took me in when I was 9."

"Tough for a kid," Wade said.

"It was at first, but my aunt and uncle have been great parents and took wonderful care of me," she replied.

"That's good," Wade said.

"What about you?" she asked.

"Well, I'm 31. I was born in Round Top and have a sister and two brothers who now live in California. I was in the CCC when I was a teenager. Since then, I've worked in oil in a variety of jobs," he said.

"What about your parents? Are they still alive?" she asked.

"Yes. They're in California with my sister," he said.

"Oil, huh? What do you do now?" she asked.

"I handle the business side more, now. I used to be a roustabout and a general operations manager," Wade said vaguely.

"Oh," she said, but didn't pry.

"So, I gather you're not Baptist by the joke you make last week," he said.

She thought to herself, "Oh yeah. No. I'm not Baptist. I'd say I'm Christian, but I'm not a church-goer. A lot of these Baptists seem to be putting on a show to me."

"My friend Bill is a Baptist, but he's not a regular church-goer either. He's more about 'walking the walk', which is what I appreciate about him," he said.

"What about you?"

"You know how they say that there are no atheists in fox holes?"

"Yes."

"Well, that may be true, but there are definitely atheists that survive those fox holes," he said.

"So you're an atheist?" she asked.

"Is that a problem?" he asked.

"No. I've just never met one before," she said.

"Well, I'm really more of an agnostic, but war taught me that the God I was taught to believe in did not exist, and I was the only one who was going to get myself out of that foxhole," Wade said.

"When did you get out?"

"June of 1944, but I had some recuperation time before I came back stateside."

"Where were you wounded?" she asked.

"In the leg, but it's fine now," he replied.

"That's good."

"What kind of work have you done besides waitressing?" he asked.

"Housecleaning, mainly. That can be dicey, though. A lot of husbands like to chase the maid," she said.

Wade's ire was raised. "Well, that's terrible."

She shrugged it off. "That's life."

"Now I feel bad that I asked you out on your job," he said.

"Don't be. You weren't exactly chasing me around a kitchen and you were quite the gentleman," she said.

"Ever been married?" he asked.

"No. You?" she asked.

"No. Haven't found the time," he said.

"Are you trying to find the time, now?" she asked directly.

He smiled and said coyly, "Maybe. How are we doing tonight?" he asked.

"I think we're doing fine so far," she said.

After about 4 months of courting, Wade and Susan were married in a small ceremony in Houston. Bill and Rebecca and Susan's aunt and uncle were in attendance. A few months later, Bill and Rebecca had some news of their own: Rebecca was pregnant a second time.


	7. Chapter 7

In January of 1948, Rebecca was four months pregnant and was making lunch in the kitchen. Cattle Annie often joined her for lunch while Bill was at work and Annie wasn't traveling. She was preparing the ingredients for Cobb Salad when Cattle Annie knocked on the door.

"Rebecca, honey, it's meeee," she hollered in a singsong voice.

"Be right there," Rebecca said as she wiped the knife on her apron and put it down on the cutting board.

"I brought sun tea," Cattle Annie said, holding up the large jar as Rebecca opened the door. Annie was in her usual cowgirl garb and smiling.

"Great," she said. "I'm almost finished preparing lunch. C'mon in the kitchen and we'll chat while I finish up," she said.

"Lead the way, honey," Annie said as they proceeded into the kitchen. When they arrived at the kitchen, Cattle Annie sat her jar of tea on the counter. "Where's your sugar? I'd like to make some sweet tea, honey."

"Over there, in that cabinet," she said, pointing to the cabinet across the room.

Cattle Annie dumped an inordinate amount of sugar into the sun tea jar and began stirring with large spoon she had found in the dish drainer. Rebecca kept cutting up vegetables.

"How's the cattle business, Cattle Annie?" Rebecca asked.

"Doin' fine. Fine. Just sold a bunch at auction this past weekend and made quite a pretty penny for myself," she replied.

"That's good. How's your prize breeding stock doing?"

"Oh. That's another story. My bull is on some sort of sex strike. I may have to retire him. I'll get him checked out by the vet first, though. You'd think with all those ladies to himself, that he'd be champin' at the bit, so to speak."

Rebecca laughed and began serving up the plates. Annie got some ice out of the freezer and filled some glasses and then poured the sweet tea over the ice. Annie took the glasses over to the table and sat down.

"Need any more help, honey?"

"No. I'll be fine," she said, finishing the salads. She took off her apron and laid it on the counter and then brought the salads to the table and sat down.

"What's Bill been up to?"

"Lately, he's been working on expanding his business to offshore drilling."

"Amazin' what they can do these days, isn't it? Technology being what it is," Annie said.

"Yes it is. I'm definitely enjoying the new labor saving devices around the home. I know I have help, but I still like to cook and bake sometimes. Bill tells me I should take it easy now, but I really get stir crazy. You know what I mean?"

"Oh heavens, yes. My middle name is "stir crazy" when I'm not busy," Annie replied.

"Volunteering helps me pass the time. I wish I had been as independent as you in my younger years," she said.

"Everbody's cut from different cloth. It's what makes the world interestin'," Annie replied. "You've got a great home, a great husband, a baby on the way, friends…."

"True. I definitely feel blessed," Rebecca said.

"These salads are great, honey. Thanks for lunch. It will be my treat next time at my house, or we can go out to one of those new restaurants popping up all over downtown Houston. Whatever your pleasure might be."

"Thanks, Cattle Annie. That would be nice," Rebecca said.

"What kind of salad is this?" Annie asked.

"Cobb Salad," Rebecca replied.

"Well, it's delicious," Annie said.

"Thanks," Rebecca replied.

"What kinds of things are you doin' to get ready for the baby?" Annie asked.

"I've gotten some newborn clothes and cloth diapers. We're turning the bedroom next to ours into a nursery," she said.

"I'll have to get you somethin'," she paused and got a mischievous look on her face. "I know what I'll get you…." Annie said.

"What?"

"It's a surprise, honey," Annie replied.

"Oh, okay," Rebecca replied.

"When are we all going to play poker again?"

"How about Friday night? If Bill's not too tired. Might have to be Saturday," she said.

"Either way, it's fine with me," Annie replied.

Rebecca finished eating her salad first and took her plate over to the sink. Annie was still finishing up her salad. Before Rebecca got to the sink, she dropped her plate, shattering it on the ground and was gripping her abdomen and hunched over. Annie dropped her fork and approached her quickly, putting her arm around her shoulders.

"What's wrong, honey?"

"I don't know. It ….hurts," she said in a strained voice. Rebecca stood up and turned to face Annie. Annie looked down in horror she couldn't hide. Rebecca had a large blood stain spreading down her slacks. Rebecca looked at what Annie was looking at.

"O God, not again. I can't lose this baby," Rebecca said through a torrent of tears.

"Honey, let's just go get in my car and get you to a hospital right now. No one is sayin' you're losing a baby, right now," Annie said.

Annie grabbed Rebecca's apron and she helped Rebecca out to her Cadillac convertible.

"Now, honey. Just wad up this apron between your legs and close 'em tight," she said.

"Oh, Annie….It…..hurts…," Rebecca pleaded.

"I know, honey. Don't worry about anything right now. I'm gettin' you to a doctor," Annie reassured.

Cattle Annie pulled up to the Methodist Hospital in downtown Houston. Rebecca was admitted almost immediately and was whisked out of Cattle Annie's sight. Annie asked for a phone book at the nurse's station and use of a phone, and dialed the Houston Oil office.

"Houston Oil. How may I help you?" the receptionist asked.

"Listen, honey. I need to talk to Bill right now," she replied.

"Who may I ask is calling?" the receptionist replied.

"Cattle Annie."

"He's busy right now. Can I take a message?" she replied.

"It's an emergency. I need to talk to him," Annie said with increased urgency in her voice.

"Ma'am, he's busy. What sort of emergency is this?" she asked.

"It's about his wife, and if you don't get him on the phone, I'm going to drive down there in two shakes of a lamb's tail and box the hell out of your ears," Annie replied.

The receptionist was miffed. "One moment please…," she said as she put Annie on hold. Annie tapped her foot anxiously with one hand on her hip.

"This is Bill, Cattle Annie. What's going on with Rebecca?"

"Bill, she's at the Methodist Hospital. She had some pain in her stomach and started bleeding. You better get down here right away."

"I'll be right there," he said, and hung up. He dialed Wade's house.

"Susan, Rebecca's in the hospital," Bill said.

"What? What's wrong?"

"I don't know yet, but it might be the baby," he said.

"Oh no! Which hospital?"

"The Methodist Hospital," he replied.

"I'll tell Wade, but in the meantime, you get to the hospital and I'll meet you there," she said.

"Okay," he said, and hung up and left the building lightning fast.

Back at the hospital, Cattle Annie was beside Rebecca's bed. Rebecca was lying on her side facing away from Annie and crying quietly to herself. Annie had her hand on her shoulder.

"Now, honey, you and Bill can try again," she said.

Rebecca just kept crying while Annie stroked her back. Annie decided to remain quiet and wait for Rebecca to speak.

A few minutes later, Rebecca turned to face Annie.

"I don't understand, Annie. What am I doing wrong? I feel like God is punishing me," she said.

"Oh, honey. It's neither. You didn't do anything or _not_ do anything to make this happen. And that's not God's style," she replied in a tender voice.

"It sure feels like it," Rebecca said.

"I'm sure it does. But it just wasn't meant to be this time," Annie said.

"When will it be 'meant to be?'" she replied with a flash of anger in her eyes.

"No way of knowin'," Rebecca. "Life's determined generally in how you look at things. You could think that you did somethin' wrong or that God or the Devil is out to get you. _Or_, you could have faith that what happened happened because maybe carryin' this baby to term would have harmed you, or heaven forbid, that once you had this baby, there may have been somethin' horribly wrong with him," she said.

"Him?" Rebecca said as she rolled over and began crying again.

Bill rushed through the hospital room door. Cattle Annie stood up and grabbed his arm and marched him out into the hallway.

"Bill, your wife lost your baby. There's no other way to soften this blow. I want you to get in there and treat her real tender," Annie said.

Bill, crestfallen, said, "Thanks for bringing her to the hospital, Cattle Annie."

"You're welcome. I'll leave you two alone now," she said as she walked away.

Bill entered the room again, and sat on the bed next to Rebecca who was still crying. She rolled over and they hugged and cried together. A few minutes later, there was a quiet knock on the door and Susan peeked her head in.

"Rebecca?"

"C'mon over, Susan," Bill said as he gestured with his hand.

Susan went to the opposite side of the bed and pulled up a chair so the two were flanking Rebecca. Susan took her hand.

"I'm so sorry, Rebecca," she said.

Rebecca said with tearing, bloodshot eyes, "Thank you, Susan."

"If there's anything that I can do, I'm here for you," she said.

Bill replied, "Thank you, Susan. Did you get a hold of Wade?"

"No. I tried but he must not be near a phone. I'll have to tell him tonight," she said.

"Okay," Bill replied, continuing to hug Rebecca.

Over the next few weeks, Rebecca recuperated at home. She had become quite depressed after the second miscarriage and Cattle Annie and Susan took turns keeping her company during the day except when Cattle Annie had to travel for business. Sometimes both women were over taking care of her and getting her mind off things by playing card games. Bill remained as supportive as he could and dealt with his grief in his own way.


	8. Chapter 8

Rebecca became pregnant again in December 1949 at the age of 37 just two months after Susan had become pregnant for the first time. Rebecca was due in August of 1950 and Susan was due in June. Both women kept each other company and became even closer friends in the process. In April of 1950, Rebecca learned of yet another complicated pregnancy and was confined to bed rest for the remainder of her pregnancy. Susan kept her company as much as she could when Bill couldn't.

"The doctor says he's hopeful about this pregnancy as long as I take it easy," Rebecca said.

"That's great," Susan said, holding her friend's hand.

"Bill won't let me do anything. He pays the doctor extra to make house calls," Rebecca said.

"Sounds like Bill," she said. "Wade comes home from work and picks up the house and rinses the dishes and then just wants to sit with me on the couch all night."

"That's adorable," Rebecca said.

"Yeah. It's been especially adorable watching a macho man act that way," Susan said, and they both laughed.

"Do you miss working?" Rebecca asked.

"Not really. I'm going to have more than enough work on my hands when the baby arrives," Susan replied.

"True."

"Wade said that since he made more than enough money, that I didn't have to work. He didn't tell me I couldn't, but I decided I would just quit since I had no real aspirations for a lifelong career," Susan said.

"Are you nervous about being a mother?" Rebecca asked.

"I'm pretty nervous, yes. I don't know how good I'll be at all. I think I learned quite a bit from my aunt about being a good mother, but I didn't grow up with her at first," Susan said.

"You'll be great," Rebecca said.

"Thanks," she said. "What about you? Are you nervous?"

"Honestly, I haven't given it much thought this time, because all I can concentrate on is making it to delivery," Rebecca said. "If it happens again, I don't know what I'll do."

"What do you mean?"

"Bill and I have talked about it a little. He thinks we should just stop trying if it happens again and consider adoption," she said.

"What do you think?"

"I hope I don't have another miscarriage. I think I'll be too devastated to even think about adoption," Rebecca replied.

"Maybe. You may be more resilient than you think, though," Susan said.

"Maybe. Right now, I can't even think about the possibility for very long. It's too mortifying to imagine and I'm trying to be calm and happy right now."

"Let's talk about something else, then," Susan said.

In the middle of May of 1950, one morning, Bill had dropped by the Matlock household on his way to work to talk about some business matters with Wade, and Susan was getting ready for her next visit with Rebecca.

"Thank you so much, for keeping Rebecca company, Susan," Bill said.

"I know it's helping to keep her in good spirits. She's never made it this far in a pregnancy and she's quite hopeful now," Bill said.

"You're welcome, Bill. I've enjoyed our time together. It's been great going through this with another woman in the same situation," she said. "I have to finish getting ready, if you'll excuse me."

"Of course," said Bill and Susan walked back into their bedroom.

Wade and Bill talked business for a few minutes and just when Bill was getting ready to leave, Susan called from the bedroom, "Wade!" in obvious distress. Her lumbering husband stopped talking to Bill and ran back into the bedroom.

"Is everything alright?" Bill asked in a concerned tone, but his question was met by silence.

Wade emerged from their bedroom escorting his wife by the shoulders, "Bill, can you drive us to the hospital? I think she's in labor."

"Of course," Bills said, and they all went out to the car.

Minutes later, they arrived at Hermann Hospital on the Texas Medical Center campus. They approached the nurses' station and explained the situation. A Dr. Jameson, the on-call obstetrician was standing nearby.

"What's your due date?" he asked.

"Another month," Susan said. Susan grabbed her abdomen and cried out in pain.

"Okay, ma'am. We're going to move you to delivery right now," he said. He then turned to the nurses and said, "Move her to delivery. We have a premature birth and it's about to happen," he urged.

Wade and Bill both headed toward delivery to follow Susan in and were stopped by a nurse who said, "This is as far as you two go. We have a waiting room over there for fathers and family."

"C'mon Wade," Bill said as he patted Wade on the back and escorted him to the waiting room. The two men passed a female and a male doctor on the way to the waiting room.

A few minutes later, a nurse came out of the delivery room door. She said, "Dr. Parsons, Dr. Samuels, and you two nurses….Dr. Jameson needs some more help." The men stood up and watched, noticing the urgency and concern on the nurse's face.

"Should we call Rebecca and let her know what's going on with Susan," Wade asked.

"No. We don't need to cause her concern just yet. She can't leave the house anyway."

"Okay," Wade said.

"Let's sit down again and wait," Bill said, putting his arm around his friend's waist. The two men sat and waited for about 40 minutes, most of it in silence.

Dr. Jameson and a female doctor walked up to the two men who stood up to greet them. "Have a seat, gentlemen," said Dr. Jameson.

"How's my wife?" Wade asked.

"Well sir, first of all, you have a beautiful, healthy baby boy. The nurses have taken him to the neonatal ward and you'll be able to see him soon," Dr. Jameson said.

"And my wife?" Wade asked again. Bill waited to hear his response as well.

"You see, Mr.?"

"Matlock," Wade replied.

"Mr. Matlock, your wife had a complication. It's unfortunately, a very common one," Dr. Jameson said.

"Complication?" Wade replied while the realization of what was going to be said emerged on his face.

"Let's sit down, Wade," Bill said.

The woman doctor sat down next to Wade and put her hand on his. "Mr. Matlock, your wife started bleeding severely after the baby was born. Three of us doctors and some nurses worked for a long time to save her, but she did not make it."

"Susan?" Wade asked with tears welling in his eyes. "My Susan is dead?"

"Yes, Mr. Matlock," she said. Bill put his arm around Wade's shoulders while Wade stared at her blankly. He hunched over and broke down crying and she kept her hand on Wade's while Dr. Jameson stood up to leave.

"I'm really sorry, Mr. Matlock. I'll send a nurse out in a few minutes to come get you so you can see her." Dr. Jameson walked back into the delivery room. The female doctor and Bill continued to keep him company.

Several minutes later, a nurse approached. "Mr. Matlock, you can come see your wife now." Wade stood up slowly and crossed his arms over his stomach and with his head bowed, walked with the nurse to say goodbye to his wife.

"Hello, my name is Bill," Bill said to the female doctor, extending his hand.

She took his hand and shook. "Cynthia. Cynthia Parsons."

"Nice to meet you. I just wish it was under better circumstances," he said.

"Me too," she replied.

"This can't be easy for you….having to do this all the time," he said.

"I haven't done it much, but it is not pleasant, no," she replied.

"I can't imagine it would be," he replied.

"What makes it hard in this particular instance is that I happen to be pregnant myself," she said.

"Oh, really? Well, yes, then, I imagine that this hits pretty close to home," he said.

"Yes, it does."

"My wife Rebecca is pregnant too. She's due in August."

"Congratulations," she said.

"You women really are stronger and braver than us men. If men were responsible for bringing life into the world with the frequent and sometimes fatal dangers involved, no one would ever get pregnant and the species would disappear."

"Maybe," she replied.

"It's hard enough to worry about our wives as they go through this process. I can't imagine losing my Rebecca like Wade has lost Susan. It can also be hard on a child to learn his or her mother died giving birth to him or her. I don't know how Wade is going to pull through this tragedy."

"Have you been friends long?"

"Yes. Many years. We were friends before World War II. He used to work for me before that, and then after he came back a war hero, he came back to Texas to become a wildcatter. We've mainly known each other socially after the war. I have a cabin in the Sabine National Forest and we take fishing and hunting trips there often with some other friends."

"What do you do?" Cynthia asked.

"I started out in oil and now I have a variety of investments," he said vaguely. He continued, changing the subject, "I'm impressed that you are a doctor. I don't think I've ever met a woman doctor before. That had to be a challenge for you…becoming a doctor, I mean. Probably a lot of obstacles in your way," he said.

"Yes, but here I am. Of course they don't give you grief classes in college or medical school," she said.

"You did fine. What does your husband do?" he asked.

"He's a lawyer. Actually, he works for this hospital too," she replied.

"Oh? What's his name?"

"Roger Parsons. He works for the legal department."

"A doctor and a lawyer? Your baby is going to be very fortunate indeed. And smart…"

"We'll do our best," she replied.

"I have no doubt with such smart parents and such a compassionate mother, that your child will go far," he said.

"Thank you," she said. "I better get back to work." She continued, "I didn't catch your last name. Bill?"

He stood up and shook her hand again, "Oh. My name's Bill Houston."

"Well, nice to meet you, Mr. Houston. Please give my condolences again to Mr. Matlock," she said.

"I will. Take care, Dr. Parsons." He then sat down in the waiting area after she left and waited for about 30 more minutes when Wade came out with a nurse who took them both to the neonatal ward to see Wade's new baby.


	9. Chapter 9

Standing outside the window of the neonatal ward, Bill and Wade looked on as a neonatal nurse went to an incubator and brought a baby to the window for them to see. Bill kept his hand on Wade's back while Wade could barely see the baby through tears. The baby boy's eyes were shut tight and his hands were balled up in clenched fists.

"I don't know what I'm going to do, Bill," Wade said.

"You're going to take care of your son, Wade," he replied.

"I don't know how."

"We'll help you… Rebecca and I," Bill said.

"You've got your own little one on the way," Wade said.

"We'll help you. I mean it," Bill replied.

"I can't believe my Susan is gone. She was only 28," Wade said, crying again.

Bill rubbed his friend's back. "I'm so sorry, Wade," Bill said.

The neonatal nurse put the baby back in the incubator and came out to talk to the men.

"Which one of you is the father?" she asked.

"I am," Wade said through tears.

"I'm sorry for your loss, Mr. Matlock," she said as she touched his arm.

"Thank you, nurse," said Bill.

"Mr. Matlock, do you have a name for your son? I'd like to put his name on his paperwork, wristband, and incubator. Right now, he's Baby Matlock...but, if you don't know yet, that's fine too," she said.

"We talked about it a couple of months ago. Since he's a boy, his name will be Wade Matlock, Jr."

"Do you have a middle name for the paperwork?" she asked.

"We didn't discuss that," he said. He thought for a few moments and then looked at Bill. "How about William?"

"Wade, you don't have to do that," Bill said.

"I want to," Wade said. "And besides, my middle name is Elroy. No boy should be saddled with that," he said as he forced a small smile.

"So, Wade William Matlock?" the nurse asked.

"Yes," Wade said.

"Okay, Mr. Matlock. Since Wade Jr. was a little early, you'll have to wait to take him home for at least 3 weeks. Rest assured, we're going to take good care of him here. This will give you some time to get ready for his homecoming," she said.

"Okay. Thanks," he replied.

"And Mr. Matlock, I truly am sorry," she repeated, touching his arm again.

Wade didn't respond and just looked through the window at his baby boy.

"Wade, I've got to get a hold of Rebecca. Will you wait here? I'll be right back," Bill said.

"Yes," Wade replied.

Bill walked down the hall to the nurses' station and asked to use their phone. He dialed Cattle Annie, because Rebecca was at the house alone, likely still waiting for Susan.

"Cattle Annie?"

"Yes? Bill? Is that you?" she asked.

"Yes," he replied.

"Rebecca called over here this morning wonderin' if I'd heard from you. She called the Matlock place too," she said.

"Something terrible has happened and I need you to keep this to yourself, until I can get home to tell Rebecca myself. I'm going to head home in a few minutes to tell her, but I need you to drop in on her until I get there," he said.

"What's happened Bill, honey?" she asked.

"Susan went into labor this morning, and she died giving birth to their son," he said, not mincing words.

"Oh no! Poor Wade! " She paused. "And that poor baby!" she replied.

"I need you to go over there like you're checking on her. Don't act like anything is wrong. I'll be there soon," he said.

"Okay, Bill. I'll head over right now," she said and then hung up.

Bill went back to check on Wade who was sitting on a bench outside the neonatal ward. His head was leaned back against the wall and he was staring at the ceiling.

"Wade, can I take you home? There's nothing you can do right now, and the baby's in good hands," Bill said.

"I guess. It's not going to be much of a home without Susan," he said.

"It will be in time… with your new son," Bill replied.

Wade dragged himself to his feet and the two men walked out of the hospital.

"Hi, Rebecca, honey," Cattle Annie said cheerily as she entered Rebecca's bedroom.

"Hi, Cattle Annie. Were you going to stay with me today? I thought Susan was," she said and then paused and thought a bit, "Well, maybe that's why I couldn't get her on the phone."

"No. Just checkin' on you after your phone call," Annie said.

"Oh. Well, I wonder what's going on with Susan," she replied.

"Can I get you anything? Have you had breakfast?"

"Actually, Sergei made me breakfast. I could use a glass of milk, though," she said.

"Comin' right up. I'll bring you the morning paper, too. Saw it on your front stoop. We can read the news together," Annie said. She walked downstairs to get Rebecca a glass of milk and then went out the front door to retrieve the paper. She returned quickly to Rebecca.

"Here's your milk, honey," she said.

"Thanks," Rebecca replied and began drinking.

"What section would you like?"

"I'll take the style section," Rebecca replied. "Start with something light and easy."

"I hear ya, honey," Annie replied.

"There are some cute styles in here for summer. Too bad I won't get to wear them," Rebecca said.

"Honey, you'll get your figure back in no time. You'll see," Annie said. "Can you believe this Joe McCarthy fella? Man's a bit hysterical about communism if you ask me. People have a right to believe in and join causes that they want to. I don't think this man's got all what belongs to him, if ya know what I mean," Annie said.

"Yeah. What he's doing doesn't seem very constitutional to me," Rebecca said.

"You should read all these crazy opinions on the opinion page in support of the man. Whole world's gone mad, I tell ya," Annie replied.

"Seems that way at times to me," she said. "Makes me glad to be holed up in here for the duration."

Cattle Annie laughed. "You got that right, honey."

The women conversed about the daily news, opinions, and social events for an hour or so, when Bill came home. He entered the bedroom where the two women were sitting.

"Oh, hi, Bill. Are you home for lunch?" Rebecca asked.

"Yes, dear. I also have some news for you. Cattle Annie, would you excuse us?" Bill asked.

"Sure thing, honey," she said, squeezing his shoulder. Cattle Annie left and went downstairs.

"Rebecca, I have something to tell you," Bill said, sitting on the edge of their bed and holding her hand.

"What is it, Bill? Is it bad news?" she asked.

"Yes. And as hard as it will be for you to hear, try to remain calm," he said.

"You're scaring me, Bill," she said, gripping his hand.

"Rebecca, Susan went into labor this morning," he said.

"O no!" she put her hands to her mouth. "Did she lose the baby?" she asked.

"No. She had a healthy baby boy," he replied.

"Oh, good!" she exclaimed. "What's the bad news, then?" she asked.

"Rebecca, Susan died," he said matter-of-factly. She gasped and he put his arm around her shoulders tight, anticipating her torrent of emotions.

"What?" she asked with a shocked and confused look on her face, tears beginning to fall.

"She's gone, Rebecca," Bill said.

She began crying so hard that it shook her frame and Bill hugged her tight. She cried for what seemed forever, and Bill kept holding her.

"What about Wade?" she asked through sobs.

"I took him home before I came here," Bill said.

"He must be devastated," she said.

"He is," Bill said. "But he has a son now to look after. I will try to keep him focused on that."

"We'll have to take care of them both, now," Rebecca said.

"I planned on it," Bill said as he looked at her and brushed back a lock of her auburn hair. "I can't imagine losing you."

Rebecca hugged him again and cried some more.


	10. Chapter 10

Three weeks later, Bill went over to Wade's house as he said he would, to come with him to pick up Wade Jr. at the hospital. He knocked on his door, early Saturday morning. But there was no answer for several minutes. Bill checked his watch and walked around back and saw that Wade's car was parked there. He knocked on the back door. Still no answer. He turned the knob on the off chance it was unlocked and it was.

"Wade? Are you in here?" Bill called.

There was no answer, so he wandered into the house, repeatedly calling Wade's name. He walked into his bedroom and saw Wade sprawled out on the floor face down. Bill scrambled over to see how he was.

"Wade! Wade!" he said, rolling Wade over on his back. He was breathing, so Bill started slapping his cheeks. Wade let out a deep breath and that's when Bill realized his friend had been on a bender.

"Damn, Wade," Bill said as he averted his face from his friend's bad breath. "Wake up!"

"What are you doing? Get out of my house," Wade said, slurring his words.

"Wade, it's Bill. We were going to pick up your son today," Bill said.

"Get your hands off me!" Wade exclaimed, pushing Bill away.

Bill grabbed the larger man by the collar and sat him up. "Wade, you need to get yourself together and pick up your son."

"Get away from me!" Wade said.

Bill left him sitting up with his legs splayed and his upper body slumped forward and came back with a pitcher of water and poured it on his head.

"What the hell?!" Wade yelled wiping his eyes and hair.

"Wade, what are you thinking? You're a father now," Bill said.

"Bill?" he said, finally realizing who was talking to him.

"Wade, we're picking up your son today. You have to get yourself together and sober up," Bill said, helping Wade to his feet.

Bill walked him to the kitchen and sat him at the table, and then went into a bathroom to see if he had any Alka-Seltzer. He dropped the tablet in a glass of water and walked it out to his friend.

"Drink this," he said. "I'm going to cook you up some breakfast."

"I don't think I can eat," Wade said.

"You'll have to try. I'll make you something good and greasy."

Wade looked nauseated while he drank the Alka-Seltzer. Bill began cooking in Wade's kitchen. After he was finished, Wade forced himself to eat the greasy fare and Bill gave him a large glass of water.

"Drink up. You're dehydrated. You'll feel better afterward," Bill said. "When you're done, get in the shower and clean up. We're going to the hospital."

"I didn't know you could be so bossy, Bill," Wade said.

"I didn't know you could be so irresponsible," Bill replied.

"Touché," Wade replied.

A few minutes later, Wade took a shower and got dressed and presented himself to Bill.

"How do I look?"

"Like a father," Bill said. "Let's go."

The men drove to Hermann Hospital to pick up Wade Jr. When they arrived, they went to the nurses' station on the maternity floor to tell them that they had arrived to pick up the baby.

Bill said to the nurse behind the counter, "This is Wade Matlock. He's here to pick up his son."

"Bill, I can talk for myself," Wade said with hangover sweat stains on his shirt. He turned to the nurse. "My son's name is Wade Matlock Jr."

"Yes, Mr. Matlock, we've been waiting for you," she said. "You'll just have to fill out these forms before you leave with your son. It won't take long." She slid a clipboard his way and placed a pen on the papers.

"Okay," he said.

"You can fill it out over there and when you're done, just bring it back here and I'll have your son brought to you," she said gesturing to the waiting area.

"Okay," he said. Bill and Wade went and sat down while Wade filled out the paperwork.

Wade got halfway through the first page, and said, "I don't know if I can do this."

"What?" Bill asked.

"Have a son," he said.

"It's a little too late for that, Wade," Bill said.

"What I mean is, I don't think I can have a son that I resent," Wade replied.

"Oh," Bill said with some sadness in his voice. "Wade, you can't blame your son. What happened is just something that happens. There is no reason. He's not responsible."

"I didn't say that it made sense, but it's how I feel," Wade said. "Susan's dead and I blame him."

Bill was temporarily speechless and thought to himself for a bit.

"I understand, Wade. Maybe you just need some time. You haven't grieved enough for Susan yet."

"I don't know, Bill," Wade replied.

Bill thought for a few moments. "Why don't you let Rebecca and I take Wade Jr. temporarily? Just until you can get yourself together."

"I don't know. Rebecca has a lot on her plate right now. Maybe I could just put him up for adoption?"

"Wade, you're not thinking clearly. I can tell you that you'll regret that in time. He's part of you. Finish up the paperwork and let me take him off your hands for the time being, say, for the next month," Bill said.

"I suppose that would be fine. I'm still hung over from last night and I'm not thinking too straight."

"Then, it's settled. I can take some time off, and Cattle Annie can help too while Rebecca is still on bed rest."

"Okay," Wade said, and finished up the paperwork. He returned the paperwork to the nurse, who put it behind the counter and then went back behind double doors down a hallway. A few minutes later, she emerged with a tiny baby wrapped in blue with a knit cap on his head.

"Here's your son, Mr. Matlock," she said and placed the baby into Wade's hesitant arms. Wade just looked down at the baby with tears in his eyes.

"C'mon, Wade. Let's leave the nurse here to her work," Bill said with his hand on his friend's back.

Bill drove Wade and the baby out to his house, and when they arrived, Cattle Annie greeted them at the door.

"What's all this?" she asked. "Have you come to show Rebecca the youngin'?"

"Something like that," Bill replied. "Wade, why don't you take Wade Jr. and sit down on the couch for a bit. I'll be right back." Wade sat down and just stared at the baby in his hands.

Bill escorted a flummoxed Cattle Annie by the arm into the den. "Cattle Annie, we're going to watch Wade Jr. for a while, until Wade can collect himself."

"Collect himself? What's the matter?" she asked.

"He's still having a difficult time. We're just going to have Wade Jr. for a bit and then Wade will take him back," Bill said.

"Okay," she said.

"Can I count on you for some help while Rebecca is still on bed rest?"

"Of course, honey. As much as I can."

"Starting now?" Bill asked.

"What do you need?"

"I need you to take Wade Jr. while I take Wade back home. I'll be back after that," he said.

"Sure thing," she replied.

Bill went back into the living room and told Wade that Cattle Annie was going to help out and not to worry. Wade handed him the baby and Cattle Annie came over and took Wade Jr. and held him in her arms.

"Thanks, Cattle Annie," Wade said.

"No problem, Wade," she replied.

"Okay, we're going to go back to Wade's house. I'll be back in about an hour or so," Bill said.

"Don't forget to pick up some baby formula, Bill," Annie said.

"Baby formula?"

"Yes, Bill. The child has to eat," she said with a wink.

"How will I know what to get?" Bill asked.

"Ask for help, Bill. Golly, you act like you've never been in a store in your life," she said. Turning to Wade, she said with another wink, "Good thing you have me to take care of Wade Jr., Wade."

Wade barely cracked a smile and had a hangdog look when the two men left the house.


	11. Chapter 11

Cattle Annie helped take care of Wade Jr. many days throughout the months of June and July, and when she couldn't, Bill took the day off from work. All of the household cleaning staff was on paid vacation as they were annually during the months of June, July, and part of August because their children were out of school. Bill and Sergei, the chef, kept the house functionally clean. Of course, Rebecca was thrilled to have Wade Jr. to practice on. Bill was so busy taking care of Rebecca and the baby and going to work himself, he had only checked on Wade a couple times early in their caretaking of Wade Jr. One of those times, Wade was fall-down drunk again, but Bill just left him lying there, walking away disappointed.

On the last Saturday in July, Bill was home with Rebecca and Wade Jr. "You're a natural, Rebecca. You really are," he said, while she held Wade Jr. and gave him his bottle and cooed at him.

"He's finished. Do you want to burp him?" Rebecca asked.

"Uh….not really," Bill said.

"You're going to have to do this sooner or later at some point," she said.

"Will I?" he asked with a smirk on his face. He immediately held out his hands for her to pass Wade Jr. to him.

"You do that like a professional," Rebecca said observing his back patting skills.

"I don't know. It doesn't seem to be working," Bill replied.

"Give it time," she said.

Bill tried a little longer and went to hand Wade Jr. back to Rebecca, and he spit up on Bill's lap in the process.

"Oh, no!"

"You quit too soon," she said with a smile while Bill took the spit cloth and wiped his pants with it, while holding Wade Jr. with one arm. "Here, give him to me," she said.

"So much for being a professional," he said.

"You'll get the hang of it," Rebecca said while cradling Wade Jr. in her arms.

"Okay. Give him back to me. I'll put him down for a nap," Bill said, holding out his arms.

Rebecca passed the baby to Bill and he went into the next room and laid him in their future baby's crib. As he was returning to Rebecca, she let out a loud moan of pain. He ran the rest of the way.

"What's wrong?!" Bill exclaimed.

"My water broke! I think I'm having this baby today," Rebecca said.

"It's a little early isn't it?"

"Not _too_ early, though," Rebecca said.

"I'll get your things for the hospital," Bill said and ran out of the room. He ran to the banister above the living room.

"Sergei! Sergei! "

"Yes, Mr. Houston," Sergei replied after running out of the kitchen.

"Can you help me get Rebecca downstairs and out to the car? She's in labor!"

"Yes, sir! What can I do right now?" he asked in his thick Russian accent.

"I'm going to get her bag for the hospital and toss it to you. Take it out to the car and come right back and come upstairs and help me with Rebecca," Bill said.

Bill quickly tossed the bag to Sergei who ran it out to the car and came back in the house running up the stairs. Once Bill stood a heavily breathing Rebecca up, he placed one of her arms over his shoulders and Sergei put the other over his and the two men gently guided her out of the room and down the stairs, having to stop once on the stairs for a contraction. Sergei helped Bill put Rebecca in the passenger seat.

"Sergei, Wade Jr. is asleep. Will you keep watch over him while we're at the hospital?"

"Yes, sir. I will take care of the little malyshka. Don't worry," Sergei said.

Bill drove Rebecca to the Methodist Hospital where some orderlies helped Rebecca into a wheelchair and wheeled her down to maternity, while Bill followed behind with her bag. He had to stop at the waiting room and sit down and wait out his child's delivery. He called Wade to see if he was alright and to tell him what was transpiring. Wade did not answer his phone. He was starting to get concerned about him, but had his mind on other pressing things at the moment.

A few hours later, a doctor came out to meet Bill in the waiting room.

"Mr. Houston?"

"Yes?" Bill replied, standing up.

"Go ahead and sit down," he said in a somber tone.

"Well?" Bill asked.

"Your wife is fine, but I have some bad news," he said.

Panic emerged on Bill's normally stoic face. "What is it, doctor?"

"Your child did not make it," he said.

Shocked, Bill said, "How…why?"

"He…."

"He?" Bill asked with tears welling in his eyes. "A son?"

"Yes, sir. He was a stillbirth. We don't know how long he'd been deceased."

Bill was clearly mortified that he had lost what might be his last chance at his only child and heir. In spite of all of this, he asked, "What about Rebecca?"

"I told her what happened. She was very upset as you can imagine. So much so, I sedated her. She's resting now," he said.

"I wish you would have let me tell her," Bill said with a flash of outrage in his eyes.

"She knew something was wrong, Mr. Houston. I had to tell her. It was the only fair thing to do at the time," he said. "I asked if she wanted to see the baby and she said 'no.' It's probably for the best."

"Is it?" Bill asked.

"Some think so. Others regret not seeing their baby. What about you?"

Bill still looked to be in sorrowful shock. He thought for a bit. "No. I don't think I want to see him."

"Are you sure?"

"I think so. It's too much to handle right now," Bill replied.

"Well, you'll have to talk to your wife soon about what to do with the remains. We can take him and give him a proper burial or you can take him and have a family burial. It's up to you."

"I, uh…..I don't know," Bill said.

"Take your time, Mr. Houston. And, I'm sorry," he said. "A nurse will come in a bit to take you to your wife."

"Thank you," Bill said.

The doctor walked away and Bill stayed sitting in the waiting room. After a few moments, he put his head in his hands and cried harder than he ever had. A nurse approached him after a while and escorted him to Rebecca's room where she was sleeping. He held her hand and looked out the window for what seemed like forever.

Bill and Rebecca decided to let the hospital take care of their son's remains, both deciding a funeral would be too hard on them. Rebecca remained on sedatives for a couple of weeks after the stillbirth. Cattle Annie cleared her work calendar and stayed with her and Wade Jr. while Bill was at work during the week. Bill checked Wade's house and contacted his business associates and he was nowhere to be found. It was as though he vanished. He had left his car but had taken his motorcycle, and had told no one where he was or where he was going.

"Rebecca, you can't just give up and lay there balled up on your bed forever," Cattle Annie said.

She was met with silence.

She sat down on the bed next to her after putting Wade Jr. down for his nap. "Honey, it's been a few weeks now. You need to get up and do somethin' and even get out of this house. You've been cooped up in here for too long," Annie said.

"Cattle Annie, I appreciate what you're trying to do, but I'm trying to come to terms that it's not in the cards for me to have children," Rebecca said.

"See, now there's an idea….There happens to be a child in this house right now, that needs a momma, and Cattle Annie is gettin' too old to do it full-time," she said.

"Wade Jr.? He's not mine. No sense in pretending otherwise. Wade will be back and that will be that," Rebecca said.

"Wade? Why, no one's seen hide nor hair of that coward, not even his best friend," Annie replied incredulously. "Harumph! Man fought in the War and he can't handle a tiny little baby!"

"Still, it's his child and he'll be back," Rebecca said.

"Maybe. Maybe not," Annie replied. "Doesn't change the fact that you were fine with takin' care of Wade Jr. before you lost your own baby. It can be the same now and it will be good for the both of you. Besides, I'm sure he'd like to breast feed instead of drink that nasty formula that's not the real deal."

Rebecca rolled over and looked at Cattle Annie, aghast.

"Don't look at me like that. There are plenty of wet nurses out in the world taking care of another mommas' businesses," Annie said.

"I couldn't," Rebecca said.

"You could. I see it on the ranch all the time. A momma can't or won't suckle and another steps in. End of story," Annie replied.

"I'm not a cow, Cattle Annie," Rebecca said.

"Oh, honey, don't delude yourself. We're all animals," Annie replied.

"Hardly," Rebecca said.

"It's true, whether you like it or not," Annie said. "Here's the deal….You're going to get your butt out of this bed and start with holdin' Wade Jr. when he wakes up from that nap, and that's that," Annie said standing up and with her hands on her hips.

"But…."

"There's no but, Missy. It's time for you to stop feelin' sorry for yourself."

Rebecca started slowly with Wade Jr. She began with holding him and then was nursing him just like her own child. She eventually started taking him out to parks and other more public places, telling strangers that the child was hers. This escalated into her telling their neighbors and friends the same thing, who, were unaware that she had lost her own child since she had been on bed rest for the end of her pregnancy, and cloistered in her house after the stillbirth. Bill had remained strong but somewhat shut down, not telling anyone the outcome of her pregnancy. He had avoided contact with friends and kept busy on the job being more comfortable being a caretaker than one who was taken care of.

A few months into Rebecca treating Wade Jr. as her own, Bill worried for his wife's future emotional stability because she'd eventually have to give Wade Jr. back to his father. Still, it had been so long that anyone had heard from or seen Wade that Bill had even gotten into the surrogate father role.


	12. Chapter 12

"Cattle Annie," Bill said into his office phone at the end of June, 1951.

"Yes, Bill, honey?" she replied.

"Are you busy tonight?" he asked.

"No. What do you need?"

"Can you come over and take Rebecca out tonight?"

"Where to?"

"Anywhere. I'll take care of Wade Jr." he replied.

"What's goin' on, Bill?" she asked.

"Nothing," he replied. "Just thought Rebecca needed some time out."

"That's true, but why am _I_ takin' her? What are you up to, Bill Houston?"

"Wade called," he said.

Annie gasped. "What does that polecat want?"

"He wants to see his son," Bill replied.

"Well, it's been over a year now. He's more your son than his," she replied.

"Maybe, but the arrangement was that we'd watch him while he got his head together," Bill said.

"Does he want him back now?" she asked.

"I don't know. He just said he wants to see him," he replied.

"Well, this is just going to devastate Rebecca," Annie said.

"I know. That's why I want you to take her out while I talk to Wade," he said.

"What time?"

"I'll be home by six and you can take her out to dinner right after that. Wade will be there at seven," he said.

"How long?"

"As long as you can. Don't come back earlier than ten. Find some other things to pass the time," he replied.

"Okay, honey. I hope this doesn't blow back in your face, when Rebecca finds out what you're doin'. You better not give him that baby without her around," she said.

"I don't know what he wants yet, Cattle Annie. He just said he wanted to see his son," he replied.

"Alright, then. I'll be there shortly after six," she said with a sigh.

"Thanks, Cattle Annie," he said.

"Uh-huh," she said.

Around 6:15 that evening, Cattle Annie showed up to the Houston residence. It took some coaxing, but she was able to convince Rebecca to have a night on the town for a change. Rebecca kissed Bill and the baby and left with Cattle Annie. Just after 7, Wade knocked on the door and Bill answered it, holding Wade Jr. in his arms. The two men stood briefly in awkward silence while Wade held his hat in his hands and looked at his son.

Bill broke the silence. "Well, c'mon in, Wade," he said, directing him with his free arm to the living room.

"Mind if I sit down?" Wade asked.

"Not at all. Please do," Bill said with a slightly impatient tone.

"Thanks," Wade said.

"So…the obvious question here, Wade, is where the hell have you been?" Bill asked.

"That's a fair question," he replied. "I've been in Mexico."

"This whole time?"

"Most of it," Wade replied. "I traveled around a bit before heading there."

"I suppose you realize you've missed your son's first year and your business is ruined," he replied.

"Yes. I'm sorry for not keeping in touch," Wade said.

"That really doesn't matter much since you're here now," Bill said. "Do you want to hold your son?"

"Okay," Wade said hesitantly. Bill passed him Wade Jr. and he awkwardly cradled him in his arms. "Where's Rebecca?"

"I had Cattle Annie take her out tonight so we could talk," Bill replied.

"Where's your baby?" Wade asked.

Bill looked at the ground and then back at Wade, "He didn't make it. He was a stillborn," Bill replied.

"I'm so sorry, Bill," he said.

"We were too. Since it was her third failed pregnancy we decided to quit trying," Bill said.

Wade shook his head. "I'm so sorry. I really am."

"Thanks," Bill said and paused. "You have really missed out on this time with your son. I will never know that with my own child. If you could see it from my point of view, you'd appreciate that," Bill said.

"You're right. I've been selfish," Wade said.

"No truer words were spoken," Bill said with uncharacteristic sarcasm.

Wade Jr. started crying and wriggling in Wade's arms. He reached out for Bill and said, "Da-da…Da-da," while stretching as hard as he could to reach him. Bill put out his hands and took Wade Jr. Wade watched his son call another man his father and his eyes teared a bit.

"It's okay, Wade," Bill said, stroking the baby's head and rocking him in his arms. He turned to Wade Sr., "What's your plan? What did you want to talk about tonight?" Bill asked.

Wade paused and thought for a bit watching Bill with his son. "I'd be a terrible father, Bill."

"And?" Bill asked impatiently.

"I can't do it by myself," he said.

"I told you before, you wouldn't be doing it alone," Bill said.

"The child needs a mother," he replied.

Bill sighed deeply and exhaustedly. "What do you want to do, Wade?"

"I can't take him," he said. "It's obvious to me that he belongs to you and Rebecca now. More importantly, he belongs _with _you. You both can give him a life that I can't."

"Do you know what you're saying?" Bill asked.

"I had been considering it for a while, but now that I see him with you, I know that even Susan would want it this way," Wade said with a twinge of sadness in his voice.

"Wade, I can't take your son," Bill said.

"Yes you can. I want you to," Wade replied. "Rebecca and you should be his parents. I'm just a drunk, wildcatter, has-been."

Bill thought to himself for a bit. "Wade, this isn't something to take lightly and once you decide to do it, it's not something that can be reneged on."

"I know. I really think this is the place for him. You and Rebecca can give him the stable life he needs and it will be good for Rebecca after losing so many babies," he said.

"Well, I don't feel comfortable just shaking on this one," Bill said.

"We can make it official if you want to," Wade replied.

"Why don't you think on it some more and I'll call you tomorrow. Where are you staying?"

"At a cheap hotel. I'll call you tomorrow. Will you be at work?" Wade asked.

"Yes."

"I won't need to think on it more, but we can make plans to make a formal adoption tomorrow," Wade said.

"This is a major decision, Wade. It's permanent."

"I know….Well, I don't want to take up more of your evening. I'm sure it's getting close to put Wa….," he said, stopping himself…. "to put the baby to bed." With that, Wade stood up and Bill stood up with the baby and put out his free hand to shake Wade's hand and Wade shook it.

"I'll call you tomorrow."

"Okay, Wade. I'll see you to the door," he said.

Wade left and Bill bathed the baby and rocked him a little in the rocking chair in his nursery until he dozed off and then Bill put him to bed. He went back downstairs to his den to work on a project from work. Rebecca and Cattle Annie showed up around 10 pm as expected.

"Did you ladies have a good time?" Bill asked.

Cattle Annie hung back with her hands on her hips and glaring at Bill while Rebecca said, "A great time! I really needed that. I didn't know how much until about half way through the evening."

"What did you do?" Bill asked.

"We put in our reservation in at that Mexican Restaurant on Gray. Luckily they had one about an hour after we got there. Then Cattle Annie and I window-shopped before our table came available," said Rebecca.

"Yep. There looks like there's a new place downtown that sells Western wear. Gonna have to check it out during business hours," Cattle Annie said. "Looks like they even have tiny little baby cowboy and cowgirl outfits. May have to get something for Wade Jr."

Rebecca agreed. "Wade would look adorable as a little cowboy, don't you think, Bill?"

"Sure he would. How was the food tonight?" Bill asked.

"It was really good. Especially the dessert," Rebecca said.

"So what did _you _do tonight, Bill?" Annie asked, putting her hands on her hips again and throwing out a hip.

"Well, let's see. I fed Wade and watched him crawl around a bit and explore. Then, I bathed him and put him to bed. Since that, I've been working on a project from work," he said.

"I think I'll go up and watch him sleep," Rebecca said as she walked up and kissed Bill on the cheek. She turned to Cattle Annie. "Thanks for the great time, tonight, Cattle Annie."

"You're welcome, honey, and you kiss that little angel on top of that sweet little head for me, will you?"

"Definitely," Rebecca said.

Cattle Annie and Bill silently watched Rebecca walk up the stairs and disappear toward Wade Jr.'s room.

"So, what the hell happened tonight?" Cattle Annie said curtly.

"Keep your voice down," he said, looking upstairs.

She stood there glaring at him.

"He stopped by and we talked for a bit. He wants to give Rebecca and I Wade Jr. to raise as our own son."

"Well, I'll be….Man has more sense than I thought he did. That's good news."

"We're going to talk about making it official tomorrow."

"Rebecca will be so happy. She loves that little angel," she said.

"I know," he said.

"I'm happy for you too, Bill. Now you'll have the son you've always wanted; well, the son you've already had."

"Thanks, Cattle Annie."

"Well, I'll see myself out now, while you spend the evening with family. Take care, Bill, and let me know how it turns out."

"I will. Have a good evening."


	13. Chapter 13

"How can I help you, Mr. Houston?" the handsome young lawyer with the neatly trimmed beard and mustache asked.

"Please call me Bill. May I sit down?"

"Certainly," the lawyer said and gestured to a chair and sat down at his desk.

"Thanks," Bill replied.

"So, what brings you here, Bill?"

"I needed an attorney and your wife told me about a year ago that you worked here at Hermann Hospital."

"You're well known and well-connected, Mr. Houston. Surely you have your own attorneys. Why do you need me?" the lawyer asked.

"I do, but they are too close to my business associates and family, and I wanted someone outside the situation at hand."

"What sort of situation?" the lawyer asked.

"I need to formalize an adoption. And I need the child's records here at the hospital sealed. And of course, there would be a name change and other paperwork," Bill replied.

"I'm not an adoption attorney," the lawyer replied.

"It's my understanding that any lawyer can handle an adoption," Bill said.

"True, but I'll have to do some research, having never done one," the lawyer said.

"I'll pay you for your time. All of it," Bill replied.

"I assume that all parties are consenting to the adoption?" the lawyer asked.

"Yes," Bill said.

"That's good," the lawyer said.

Bill looked around the room at the wide bookshelf of legal books, a Norman Rockwell print, the lawyer's plants, and a color studio picture on his desk of a baby with his wife. The baby wore a little pink dress.

"That must be the baby your wife was pregnant with when I met her," Bill said. "She's a beautiful little girl."

The lawyer picked up the framed picture and smiled at it. "Yep. These are the women in my life. That's my little Cady," he said.

"She must be the apple of her daddy's eye," Bill replied.

"That she is," the lawyer replied. "She's eight months old now."

"Eight months….Hard to believe," Bill replied.

The lawyer put down the picture. "What are the circumstances of the formal adoption that you are needing, Bill?"

"Well, just over a year ago, my best friend's wife died in childbirth. It's an understatement that he didn't take it well. He disappeared for a year and he wants to grant my wife and I his child to raise as ours."

"Oh yes. I remember something about that from last year. Cynthia was rather shaken up by it and told me about it."

"You have to keep this adoption between you and the three of us, Mr. Parsons. You can't even let your wife in on it," Bill said.

"It's my legal obligation to keep confidences, Bill. Call me Roger," he said.

"Roger, I'm glad that you can keep this private. We want this to be a smooth transition. Most people, except two people in our immediate circle, already believe him to be ours," Bill said.

"I understand," Roger replied. "Well, let me get going on some research on completing a closed adoption. Sealing the records here at the hospital should be no problem. Does the natural father want anything to do with the child after the adoption?"

"Probably not," Bill said.

"You should make sure. That should be part of the adoption agreement… the degree to which the natural father stays in his child's life."

"Okay. I will," replied Bill.

"Your wife will also have to sign some papers," Roger said.

"Yes. I figured as much," Bill replied. "How long will it take you to research?"

"Oh, not long," Roger replied. "Give me a couple of weeks and in the meantime, find out how much contact the natural father will want with his son."

"Okay. I can do that," Bill replied.

The two men talked more about the situation and family in general for another thirty minutes before Bill left.

A few days later, Bill arranged lunch with Wade to discuss the terms of the adoption more in depth. They met at the Triple A for a late lunch so that the restaurant would not be crowded.

Wade looked around the room after the waitress got them their drinks. "You know, this is where I first met Susan," he said.

"I think you told me that, once," Bill replied. "Are you going to be okay?"

"Yes. It's a bittersweet feeling."

"I talked to the lawyer a few days ago, Wade."

"When do we complete the adoption?" he asked abruptly.

"Soon. He wanted me to ask you and be sure whether you wanted to be involved in the boy's life at all or not," Bill replied.

"I think it would be best if I just disappeared out of the picture, don't you?" he replied.

"I don't know. I've never done this before," Bill replied.

"Look, Bill. It will be too confusing for the boy. He already has a mother and father and I can't raise him, even part time. It's the practical thing to do," he replied.

"Are you sure?" Bill asked.

"I know you are trying to look out for my feelings, here, Bill, and I appreciate it. You're a good friend. But when Susan died, and I know you hate to hear me say this, he died too."

"Wade, I'm so sorry," Bill said.

"Don't be. You're giving Susan a gift, you and Rebecca. I'm serious."

"What do you plan on doing after the adoption?" Bill asked.

"I'm probably going to go back to wildcatting or something related. It's what I know," Wade said.

"Will I see you again?" Bill asked.

"Maybe. I'm sorry, Bill. I just feel like I need to start over completely."

"I guess I understand," Bill replied.

"I bet Rebecca is relieved and excited all at once to finally have Wa…, a baby to call her own."

"She is," Bill said.

"I feel really good that I'm leaving him in such capable hands at least. It will make up for me being such a terrible father," he said.

"I hope you learn to not be so hard on yourself," Bill said.

"I just need to put this chapter of my life behind me," Wade replied.

Their food came out to the table and the two men talked about oil, the economy, and other current events. About a week later, on a Saturday, Bill, Rebecca, and Wade met at Roger Parsons' office at Hermann Hospital to finalize the adoption.

Roger brought in an extra chair from the main office so they could all sit down in his office. He sat down at his desk and pulled out a stack of papers while everyone else sat in their respective chairs.

"Mr. Matlock, it is my understanding that you want a completely closed adoption. That you don't want any contact with Wade Jr."

"Yes," he said confidently but with a tone of resignation.

"Good. That's what I put in the papers. I talked to Bill and we're also changing his birthdate to August 20, 1950, which would have been the Houston's natural child's due date. Correct, Bill?"

"Yes," Bill replied.

"Here's the new birth certificate. If you look here, you'll see that it shows William Davis Houston and Rebecca Nathan Houston as the child's birth parents," Roger said, pointing to the document. "And here's the new birthdate and which hospital he was born in. I kept the attending physician the same, but his original record will be sealed so that won't be a concern in the future."

"I feel like we'll be lying to our son. It seems dishonest," Rebecca said, having second thoughts about a closed adoption.

"Mrs. Houston, this is the most common form of adoption today. It keeps complications low, and he will be _your _child from now on, even if you did not give birth to him. It's not being dishonest. You are doing the loving thing for this child as is Mr. Matlock," Roger said.

"If you say so," Rebecca replied.

"Finally, note the name change," Roger said. "Bill has told me that you and he have come up with the name of Mattlock William Houston. It's right at the top of the birth certificate," he said to Rebecca.

"Yes. That's what we want his name to be," she replied.

Bill turned to Wade, "We thought your last name made a good first name for him, but changed the spelling. And even though it is my name, we wanted him to have the middle name you gave him, Wade."

"You didn't have to, but it was a nice gesture," he said coolly.

"I'll just need you to sign here and here on the birth certificate," Roger said. Both Houstons signed the document.

"And Mr. Matlock, here's a document that states that you are revoking your parental rights to Wade," Roger said, handing it to Wade Sr. "Take your time to read it fully."

"I don't have to. Give me that pen," Wade said, and he hurriedly signed the document, with the others looking on in surprise.

"And finally, here is the court document sealing Wade William Jr.'s original records. All of you will have to sign this one," Roger said.

They all signed the document and sat briefly in an awkward silence.

"Well, these are all the forms we needed to take care of today. Congratulations Bill and Mrs. Houston," Roger said. He turned to Wade, "You've done the right thing, Mr. Matlock."

Wade quickly put on his hat and stood up. He looked like he was going to say something to everyone, but then stifled his comment. "Goodbye, Bill. Goodbye, Rebecca. Nice to meet you Mr. Parsons," he said as he shook his hand. Bill started to stand up but Wade gestured for him to stay seated and with his head hung down, he silently walked out of the office and closed the door behind him. Roger gathered the legal papers into a folder and Bill and Rebecca reached out to hold hands and looked at each other.

"These adoptions are never easy," Roger said. "But they bring happiness to at least half the people involved."

"I hope Wade will be alright," Rebecca said.

"I hope so too," said Bill.

After the documents were filed and the original records sealed, Mattlock Houston began his life as an official member of the Houston family. That next year was a happy year for all involved and Mattlock had not known any different. Unfortunately, early in 1952, tragedy struck the Houstons again. Rebecca was diagnosed with uterine cancer and died within that year at the tender age of 40. Mattlock was only two when she died. Bill would have shut down if he didn't have his son, after the series of tragedies in their marriage culminating in the worst of all. Little Mattlock Houston became the center of his world from that point forward and other than Roger Parsons, only Cattle Annie and Sergei Polansky knew that he was not Bill's biological son. It didn't matter to them, but they kept the truth in confidence at Bill's request.


	14. Chapter 14

In 1954, Bill interviewed some men for two new ranch hand positions he had on his ranch. Bo Tremaine and Lamar Pettybone showed up for the interview together, presenting themselves as a package deal. Bo was a sandy-haired, rugged 30 year-old that looked to have led a rather hard life. He had a thick rural Texas accent and some minor dental problems. Lamar was a blonde, 34 year-old that had an affable face with a friendly smile. His accent was not as thick as Bo's but rural nonetheless. The men had been friends for their whole adult lives. Bill interviewed them in his living room.

"How long have you two been ranching?" Bill asked.

"I grew up poor, so I's always workin'. Can't remember a time I wasn't. I've worked lots of places, but mainly farms and ranches," Bo said.

"And I come from a large family. When I wasn't workin' around the house as a kid, I was workin' on our land and then when I was 16, I struck out on my own and rode the rails for a while since my family didn't need another mouth to feed," Lamar said. "I found jobs on farms and ranches after that."

"How did you two meet?" Bill asked.

"Let's see. Guess it was 'bout ten years ago on a ranch north and west of Galveston. We tended the horses and cattle and mended fences and such," Bo said. "Ain't that right, Lamar?"

"Yep. We built and razed our share of barns too. We're both handy with construction if need be," replied Lamar.

The front door to the house opened and Cattle Annie strode inside holding Mattlock's hand. The three men sitting in the living room looked over at them.

"Sorry to be interruptin' ya'll, Bill. I'm gonna take Mattlock up to give him a bath. I put him on a horse for a while, and you should have seen him….you'd thought he'd gotten the best Christmas present on Christmas morning. Isn't that right, Mattlock?" she said, looking down at him.

"I wanna do it again, Cattle Annie!" he exclaimed.

"You will, honey," she said to him with a smile.

"So, anyway, we went back to the barn to put the horse back and he stumbled into a pile of you-know-what," she said with a hearty laugh.

"Thanks, Cattle Annie," Bill said.

"I'd shake your hands boys, but….," she said showing her dirty hands. "You just heard my name. What's yours?"

"I'm Bo Tremaine and this is Lamar Pettybone," Bo said.

"Been ranch hands a long time?" she pried.

"Yes, ma'am," Lamar said, "Some ten years or so."

"Where'd you work last?" she asked.

"Stevens' ranch west of Dallas," Bo said.

"How long?" she asked.

"Three years," Bo said.

"Whew! That's a long time." She turned to Bill, "You should hire 'em, Bill, if you haven't already. I know that Stevens and he's an asshole. He doesn't hire incompetent people because he doesn't want to be bothered with 'em and you'd probably be doin' these boys a favor by freein' 'em from his clutches. You're a lot nicer."

Bo and Lamar looked at each other. Bill just shook his head.

"One more thing, boys… Do you play poker?" Cattle Annie asked.

"Yes, ma'am," said Lamar.

"Well, ya see there, Bill. It's a done deal. We need some more players for our poker nights," she said.

Bill said, "Thanks for your input, Cattle Annie."

She rolled her eyes and went upstairs to give Mattlock a bath.

"Well, Lamar and Bo, I guess you're in luck. I've known Cattle Annie a long time and I take her recommendations very seriously when it comes to ranching. You're hired."

They both took turns vigorously shaking Bill's hand.

"Thank you, Mr. Houston," Bo said.

"Yes, thank you very much, sir," Lamar reiterated.

"First thing you're going to start doing is calling me Bill," he said.

"Yes sir," Bo replied.

"And you can stop the 'sirs.' I'm not that much older than either of you," Bill said.

"When can we start?" Lamar asked.

"When will you be ready to start?" Bill asked.

"We can start tomorrah," Bo said enthusiastically.

"Great. Come tomorrow morning and I'll set you up with my other hands and they can fill you in on the operations around here," Bill said.

"Thank you, oh, thank you," Bo said, and shook his hand vigorously again.

"You're welcome. I'll see you both tomorrow," Bill said.

"See ya then," Bo said, grabbing Lamar by the arm and walked him out the front door.

Cattle Annie had put Mattlock in the bath water that quickly turned a light brown. She started put soap in his hair and twirled it into a single horn on the top of his head.

"Boy, you're lookin' like a wild child. I gotta tell your father to get you a haircut," she said, beginning to lather his body with soap. At the same time, Bill had come up the stairs and was listening from outside the bathroom door that was ajar.

"Cattle Annie, how was I born?" Mattlock asked.

"Well, honey, you've seen the calves born here on your ranch. It was like that," she said.

"Oh," he said with a disappointed tone in his voice that she could not ignore.

"Well, listen, honey, I'll tell you the story," she said.

Bill craned his neck to hear better and wore a worried look on his face.

"Ya see, Mattlock…I've known your parents for quite a while now. When your mother was eight months pregnant with you, she crashed her car out in the middle of the boondocks and luckily for her, I happened to be traveling that way that day."

Mattlock listened intently with a worried look on his face but with his hair still twirled to a point on the top of his head. "What happened next, Cattle Annie?"

"When I got to the car, I pulled her out and she was in labor…"

"What's labor?" he asked.

"It's complicated, but you were about to be born and there wasn't a doctor in sight," she replied. She continued, "So, I got your momma comfortable as I could, and soon as she was ready, I helped deliver you right on the spot," she said.

"Is that true, Cattle Annie?" he asked.

She crossed herself with her fingers. "Why, cross my heart and hope to die," she said.

"Wow," Mattlock said with a look of wonder on his face.

"But here's the deal, now. This will have to be our little secret," she said.

"Why?" he asked.

"You can't tell anyone because I don't want people knowin' that Cattle Annie has a heart. They'll take advantage of me, ya understand?" she said.

He nodded yes with a look on his face that revealed that he thought he was privy to some very special information.

"So, it's just our secret, then?" she reconfirmed.

"Yes, Cattle Annie. I promise," he said.

She then began rinsing him off and then stood him up out of the tub for towel drying. Finally, she combed his hair and put him in the new clothes that she had previously laid out for him in the bathroom.

Bill heard them finishing up and snuck back downstairs and sat down on the couch. Minutes later, Cattle Annie walked down with Mattlock, hand in hand.

"It's like a new boy, I tell ya," Cattle Annie said.

"Looks great," Bill said. "Why don't you go back outside and play for a while, son," Bill said.

"Okay Daddy," Mattlock replied.

"Don't get all dirty again, Mattlock," Cattle Annie admonished.

"I won't!" he yelled as he ran out the front door.

"So, did you hire those boys?" Annie asked.

"Yes. I did on your recommendation," he replied, seeming a little peeved.

"Good. We need some more poker players around here," she said.

"They start tomorrow morning," Bill said.

"Great," she said.

"Cattle Annie, I heard what you told Mattlock in the bathroom."

She looked like the cat that ate the canary. "Oh, you did, huh?"

"Yes," he said coolly. "Why did you tell him that lie?"

"It's just a little white lie, Bill," she said.

"Seemed like a big black lie to me," he replied. "What if he grows up and starts looking a story like that up in the papers or something?"

"He's four years old, Bill. I doubt he'll even remember it in few years," she said.

"Still, what does he gain by believing such a story? It seems like you told it for your sake and not his. Makes you sound pretty good. I think it was pretty selfish," he said.

"Think what you want. He asked me a question and I wasn't going to say, well, Mattlock, your mother died giving birth to you and your daddy now isn't your real daddy," she said defensively.

Bill looked hurt when she said that.

She tried to take it back. "I'm sorry, Bill. I didn't mean it like that. I just didn't know what to tell him so I made up a story. It seemed like a good idea at the time. Sorta did it on the fly," she said.

"Well, what's done is done," Bill said. "You can't unring a bell."

"I told him to keep it between he and I, if that's any comfort," she said.

"I just hope he forgets it. Please don't tell him again," Bill said.

"He probably will," she said, though she didn't make any promises one way or another about telling him the story again.

"You could have come up with something less dramatic," Bill said.

She sighed. "I can see we're going to keep going over this again and again."

"Why not something like, 'your mother went into labor after a loud thunderstorm?'" he asked.

"I don't know. I guess you're right. Part of me wanted to put me smack dab in the middle of the story. I was selfish, I guess. But not entirely," she said.

"What do you mean?" Bill asked.

"Don't you remember being a child and being so enthralled by those adventure stories. I was a tomboy and I can tell you, I was. Every one of those hero types had an exciting birth story. Made all our birth stories boring by comparison and we wished ours were better," she said.

"I think I see what you mean," Bill said.

"It's like this, Bill. Every boy and girl needs something legendary to believe about themselves at some point to move them ahead and to help them face challenges," she said.

"When did you become an armchair psychologist?" Bill asked.

"What do you mean? I've been one all along," she said.


End file.
